


Man of Iron I Hope You Rust

by MaximumXylophone



Series: I adore my Mary Parker [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Bucky Barnes, BAMF Mary Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, Bisexual Michelle Jones, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes is very liberal and permanently angry on twitter, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Hurt Loki (Marvel), I can't believe they made him a pushover, I just write them, I know it's jarring but I know nothing else, I'm so mad about it, LGBTQ+ Representation, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki Redeption, Mary Parker is a Great Mother, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Michelle Jones is a witch, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Michelle Jones, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Not Tony Stark Friendly, Other, Pagan Michelle Jones, Pagan Peter Parker, Pansexual Tony Stark, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker actually has opinions, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is a Witch, Peter Parker is not a pushover, Peter Parker is the best son, Peter Parker is wholesome, Peter Parker lives in Stark Tower, Steve Rogers is an asshole, They're Little Shits Together, Tony Stark is an Asshole, You're going to love her, and alright maybe steve is going to look like he's not that bad, because, because they're both powerful I will fight I swear down, because why did they not give him opinions past what cereal he likes and what LEGO he wants, but also for the plot, but thats just to begin with so wait, but there's some canon too ok, except he's a twat and we don't care, except he's also a twat and we don't care, holy shit this is so many tags, i don't make the rules, im gonna be changing some stuff, it's just... mainly not, mainly so timelines fit, maybe don't read this if you like Tony or Steve because you'll hate me, obviously because there's literal Norse Gods how are people not more Pagan in Marvel wtf, please excuse my English spelling and terms, seriously we love Bucky Barnes, sorry about it but im not sorry about it lmao, they really did Peter bad and I'm going to fix it, unfortunately, we love Bucky Barnes, you'll hate me for it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaximumXylophone/pseuds/MaximumXylophone
Summary: Peter Parker had the best family you could dream of... until the age of six when his mum dies. Then he's left to try and survive with his aunt and his biological father in a tower full of some of the most powerful people in the planet who are, frankly, pretty shit at saving people considering the fact that they're superheroes. Standing up for himself is something Peter can do though, and until they come around he's damn well going to.
Relationships: (haha pun), Bruce Banner & Peter Parker, Clint Barton & Loki, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Mary Parker/Richard Parker, May Parker & Mary Parker, May Parker/Ben Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, No Ned Leeds & Peter Parker friendship, Not Really, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & Mary Parker, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Sorry, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, also very very briefly, and I will have her realise this, but not really - Relationship, but once again - Relationship, but one more time not really, im not sure yet - Relationship, one sided though because she deserves better, potentially - Relationship, probably though - Relationship, their friendship grows to be god tier, very very briefly - Relationship
Series: I adore my Mary Parker [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932244
Comments: 13
Kudos: 74





	1. Mother of the Forever Award

It's comical really how quickly someone will be willing to throw away a relationship. Six years...Six whole years together. They started dating at 15, which should have been the first sign it wasn't going to last long, and got married at 20. A year together and Richard decides he's going to cheat already; decides he's just going to be rid of her like last nights takeout leftovers. She loved that man with all her heart, but she could see in the way he was drifting it wasn't enough for him. It wasn't enough that she would ignore important work for a little too long so she could cook for him each night and each morning. It wasn't enough that she did everything in her power to make him happy after a long, stressful or bad day. It wasn't enough for him for her to be there. Or maybe it was too much, she couldn't be sure, she was a very doting woman. It was in her nature. Sure if you do something against her Mary would steal your kneecaps with a plastic spork and laugh as you struggle to walk, but the rest of the time she was the sweetest darn woman you'll ever meet.

She kicked him out, obviously, and then went to the nearest bar for a drink and a cry. Three glasses of wine later and she was _extraordinarily_ drunk, never really the drinker. That, _of course_ , was when an equally intoxicated man stumbled towards her and started to chat her up. He seemed agonisingly familiar. He wasn't overly tall, but neither was she. He had dark hair and seemed quite a bit older than the 21-year-old Mary Parker (who longed for her name to be Mary Fitzpatrick once more), but she didn't mind. He was nice - even if only so she'd sleep with him - and looked nothing like Richard - his goatee distancing him from the clean-shaven face of her (ex?) husband. So she took his proffered hand and walked out of the bar at his side, looking elegant as always despite the alcohol and her slightly tear-stained face. She felt disappointed in herself the next morning when she woke next to a man she'd never met but now recognised as that Tony Stark she'd seen on the news. Next to the bed is a business card with TS and a number. She, unlike the rest, leaves Tony alone in bed with nothing but a note. A simple, but very effective note to get her whole point across in her beautiful, looping scrawl. She left it on his side of the bed, the same way the business card (which she pockets) was left on hers before leaving.

> I'm taking your number. I better not get fucking pregnant. If it’s me, pick up. I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important. (###) ###-#### -Mary ~~Parker~~

* * *

So she got pregnant because _of course_ she did. She decided when she found out though that she isn't going to be mad about it, she's going to love her baby like the gift she's certain he will be. She starts creating the perfect nursery for her baby in the room that used to be hers and Richard's. She paints first, knowing it would get harder the bigger she got. She'll put together furniture next. With the help of newly single May (Ben congratulated Richard on cheating on Mary with someone 'so damn hot'. No need to say May moved in with Mary pretty soon after.) at the same time as converting the spare room into a room for May and Mary's art studio into her bedroom, they start to get all those things done.

"May!" Mary gasps with a smile as pastel yellow paint splatters up her back and into her hair. She turns, eyes alight with mischief in a way they haven't been in a while. If she's perfectly honest, it scared May a little. That look is always followed by an unbearable amount of drama, sass, or mess. None of which May really wants to deal with right about now (which is a lie - she loves Mary's drama queen nature). Mary thrusts her hand into the can of white paint at her side and throws a handful at May, covering not only the sweet Italian woman but the yellow wall behind her too. By the time they no longer have breath from their laughing, running, throwing and attacking they're both covered in white and approximately eight different shades of yellow. The walls are entirely covered in so many different paint splatters that to be perfectly honest you can't tell what the colour the base was meant to be.

"Do you think we need to repaint?" Mary says breathlessly as she lays on the floor next to the lady she loves like a sister. They look at each other before looking at the ceiling that thanks to the tape should stay white and giggle a little more together.

"Like hell we do."

Lucky for them, just like his mother, Peter grows to love the colour yellow.

* * *

  
The phone rings rather monotonously. She strongly debated not calling, but it seemed important she have a very very last resort. Then again she has been on hold for six minutes now after telling one Pepper Potts what's happened and her plan, so maybe not so much. He clearly wouldn't answer if it were that important. She had been putting it off for the five weeks she'd known though.

“This is Tony Stark. I’m told this is important, what do you want?” She had to pull the phone away from her ear and take a deep breath to force herself not to snap at him. She couldn’t hide the acid in her tone though.

”Hiya, honey. Remember me? This is Mary Parker. Just so you know, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.” The line was silent on either end. 

”Are you sure? How far along are you?” She sighs.

”You think I’d bother if I wasn’t? Eight weeks." Mary hears a long, deep sigh.

"Text me your address, I'll send a driver: I want a DNA test." She agrees and does as asked (well... told). A sleek black car pulls up outside twenty minutes later, and all of a sudden mary is at the best private doctor near Stark Tower. She's immediately hurried through to a room housing one Tony Stark and two ladies. 

"Hello Mary, I'm Pepper Potts, Tony's PA. It's lovely to meet you." Mary shakes her hand with a smile.

"And you. PA? I'm sure that's a nightmare. You must be basically running the company!" They share a laugh. Pepper gives a sigh and a dramatic 'I try' as Stark attempts to stumble his way through an argument.

"I'll have you know I'm one of the most powerful men in the world!" Mary tries to hold her smile back, but not very hard.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." She turns to the other lady she's not yet spoken to, assuming it's the doctor. "Shall we get this over with, then?"

They rush a result - Mary assumes this to be because Tony is the one paying for it - so in a matter of an hour they have a result. The sight the doctor sees as she walks back into the room is an expected one: Mary and Pepper talking lightly and joking whilst Tony rolls his eyes and ignores them by staring at his laptop and pretending to do something productive.

"Well, Mister Stark, it appears you're a father." The room is silent for a moment, and Mary looks to the man. He rolls his eyes and glares as though he's been inconvenienced.

"First time for everything - a woman that doesn't lie for my attention." Mary and Pepper both glare at him, only intensifying the heat when another string of stupid words come from his stupid face. "How much money do you want to pretend this never happened?"

"Tony! That's your child, you can't just pretend they don't exist!" Pepper attempts to argue.

"Watch me. How mcuh, Marah?"

"My name is Mary. You not bringing this attitude around them would be enough. I don't want my child to grow up feeling unwanted." She sighs, stands, and leaves. She'll just get a taxi home. One text is shared between them after that, but don't speak to each other again. They keep each other’s numbers in case something went seriously wrong. Mary hoped it never came down to that.

* * *

If you ask Mary Parker nothing fills you with more pride than being a good mother; if you ask May Parker nothing makes you more worthy of everyone's pride than being a good mother. A great duo, as you can imagine, so sat in a hospital room crying both women stare down at this bundle of joy and burst with pride for one Mary Parker. She was about to be the best damn mum the world has ever seen. Gods know young Peter deserves it. Mary had texted Tony as she went into labour, as well as specifying what hospital she'd be in. He didn't show up - she wasn't disappointed. 

"Peter," Mary whispers, soft, like nothing in the world matters but her sweet baby boy - and of course that's not too far off "Peter Parker. You hold the surname of a man who is nothing more than a coward, and you hold the DNA of a man who's no more than a sexist, but in your eyes, I see the one man in the world who isn't going to be like any of the rest. I look into your sweet, sweet brown eyes, and with everything I am, with everything I have, I pray you'll grow to be as powerful as I see you will be. My baby boy, you'll rule the world and anyone who doubts it will burn like they're sat on the surface of the sun. You know why little prince?" She smiles, strokes his silk soft cheeks and laughs as he grabs her one finger with his tiny fist.

"Because, sweet boy, you are the sun. You'll light the world - keep it turning just how it should - because the world deserves one boy who won't try to tear it apart, and I can see that you'll only put it back together."

* * *

May had gone to work early, but luckily Mary had the day off, so she could look after Peter. It's a Saturday, which means she has to try to get the tyke to go shopping with her. She puts a Transformers plastic cup down on the table, filling it with orange juice, before placing his favourite Power Rangers bowl down, filled to the brim with fruit, and matching plate with bacon and a pancake. Opposite she places a bowl of raspberries and yoghurt for herself partnered by a glass of raspberry iced tea. She was going to need proper persuading to get Pete to go shopping, the four-year-old always hates having to stay in the trolly. She even used the orange juice with pulp for the boy (even though she knows it as a god-given fact that orange juice with pulp is what they give you in hell). Gentle wake up time.

She opened Peter's door slowly and quietly, pushing open one side of his curtains and pushing a window open to let in 'fresh' air, before walking over to kneel by his bed. She gave herself to just watch her sweet baby sleep. He always looked so peaceful. She played with his hair, singing gently to wake him. His Bambi eyes open slowly, hidden behind his cinnamon curls and excessively long eyelashes. 

"It's just like heaven being here with you. You're like an angel, too good to be true but after all, I love you, I do. Angel baby, my angel baby." Peter gives a small smile. He loves when his mama sings this song. It usually comes with cuddles, or dancing and twirling around the kitchen as it croons out from his nana's record player in the living room. Mary smiles and continues to play with his hair before he sings just as she's about to.

"When yous near me, my heart skip a beat. I tan hardly stand on my owns two feet betause I wuv you, I wuv you, I do. Angel mama, my angel mama." She tears up slightly, her cute boy never having changed the word to sing back. His sleepy state making his words a little more baby-ish than her smart boy manages usually. She kisses his face all over as he giggles.

"I made you breakfast, cherub. Think we can get you dressed then go eat?" He nods and pushes himself up with sleepy eyes, rubbing away the grime the had accumulated with his small fist. They work together to get Peter into a white t-shirt and some blue denim overalls. White socks and trainers to match, and it means he and his mother are in the same outfit.

"Mama! Snap!" He giggles. He'd chosen this outfit once when Mary was wearing the same thing. Mary always lets him choose what clothes he wants to buy.

"Yeah, Petey, we match! Now, breakfast." She watched her son eat to make sure he didn't choke or get it everywhere but tried to make sure she ate too, lest she have Peter glare at her until she eats again. Say what you want about how cute he is, if he's angry at you you feel it in your bones. They finish eating relatively quickly, but Peter looks shifty the whole time.

"What's up, baby?" He gives her the look again, finishing his last bite of melon and getting the juice all down his arm. Mary notes that she'll have to baby wipe him down before they leave so he's not all sticky. 

"You maked breakfast and not justs fruit... Wha you wan me do?" Mary laughed. Of course he noticed. The only time he gets cooked breakfast is when it's someone's birthday or if he has to do something he won't want to. 

"We have to go shopping, dear." He pouts very obviously and groans. "Oh, I know, mama is such a monster. We have to get food, new trainers for May, I need some things, and you, young man, need more shorts after you destroyed two pairs at the park."

He giggled, always as mischievous as his mother, and agrees to go 'like a good boy'. Mary cleans up the plates and takes a few minutes to play before they leave. She puts all the dishes away then sneaks around the corner to see Peter drawing quietly on the floor. She waits for him to put his pencil down (she's not about t make him ruin his drawing - that would be mean) and then she strikes, leaning over to tickle him mercilessly just as he's about to pick up his next colour. He doubles over giggling and squealing until she stops. He pants for a few minutes, then chases his mama back.

"I gon tickle you!" He yells with a giggle.

"Oh no!" Mary says, intentionally running to the end of the hall where she'll be trapped. "You've bested me, Mr Tickle-Monster! Here I meet my maker!" Peter then attempts to tickle his mother but essentially just poes her repeatedly in the ribs - which has her giggling regardless. When he stops Mary is laying on the floor, Peter kneeled next to her. He kisses her cheek and sighs.

"Shop now?" He manages to make himself sound hard-done-by, and Mary can honestly see why. She hates food shopping too.

"We'll get ice cream on the way home, just don't tell Auntie May." They shared a conspiratory giggle once more then headed out together. 

They get the food shopping done first. It's the worst part, so they decide just to get it over with. Afterwards, they head around the corner, Mary's arms full of bags but holding Peter's hand regardless. That's where the best thrift shop for shoes are. The family, between Mary and May, certainly make enough to not have to thrift, but if they want to treat themselves to days out, days off, and presents when they need or want them, it's best they do. Besides, the clothes are just as good, often even better considering the price. They get May her trainers and she buys some fabric paint so she can paint them for May to surprise her. Mary is a very good artist, as often paints random things to gift people or give places colour (like that one time she _completely legally_ spray-painted a feminist mural on the side of Stark Tower when she was drunk - something May would never admit to being proud of her for, but certainly is). Then it comes down to getting some breezy clothing for her boy to spend the summer in.

"Alright, Petey," she says, leading him to the children's area of his favourite thrift shop to get clothes. "If you can pick out three new pairs of shorts, I'll get you a stuffy too!" He smiles and runs over to look around. She notices his eyes keep drifting to a set of two skirts - a red and blue set. As he picks shorts she goes to look at the price and size. Lucky for the pair they would indeed fit her boy and only cost four dollars. She, still making sure to watch Peter, buys them and hides them in one of her shopping bags as he moves over to pick out some kind of stuffed animal. She takes the shorts out of his hands and places them in the basket with the shoes and paint (which she didn't ring up to avoid his suspicion). He chooses a very fluffy bear with hidden eyes and an army uniform. 

"Bucky Bear!" He cheers excitedly. "Captain 'Merica's bestest friend!" May, always the history buff, had been watching a World War II documentary while Peter built DUPLOs. The only thing he really retained was that Steve Rogers - Captain America - is a superhero, and had a super cool best friend called Bucky who looked after him 'jus like mama looks after me!'. Bucky Barnes, in all, was probably the person Peter looked up to first after May and his mama. They head home soon after that - having to hail a taxi so Mary doesn't have to carry all those bags. 

Once they get home and Mary's put away the food shopping, washed and dried all their new clothes, and put May's newly painted trainers out to dry, she decides it time to show Peter his skirts.

"Cherub, I got you a gift!" Peter turned away from his LEGOs with a gasp.

"Why?" Mary smiles and kisses him on his chocolate curls.

"Because I wanted to." She rummages around in the laundry pile and hands him them. His eyes widen and he takes the soft fabric into his eyes with the biggest smile. It falls quickly, much to Mary's dismay.

"What's wrong, Petey?" He looks to her before sliding himself into her lap.

"They're for girls. People will laugh at me..." Mary had long hated the way people are, but never more so than that moment. She strokes his hair in the tender way only a loving mother can and tilts his chin up so he looks her in the eyes.

"Listen to me, baby. Clothes aren't boys clothes or girls clothes. They're just clothes. Just pieces of fabric we put on to cover our skin. If anyone tries to make fun of you, they're the weird ones because that means they are getting angry over fabric. Normal people don't get angry over fabric unless it's the uncomfy kind, okay?" He nods and kisses his mama on the cheek. A few minutes of cuddles later has Peter bouncy once more.

"I go try them now!"

Peter comes back with fabric swishing around his knees. He does a little twirl and laughs. He says he feels pretty. Mary thinks he's the prettiest thing this world will ever get the gift of seeing, and once May gets home to Peter and Mary spinning around in swishy skirts, she can't help but think the same thing about the pair. What they don't think about is the fact that maybe they're the best family to have been seen, and that's why the sun shines in Peter - because he was raised into a family where the love burns even hotter. That tends to make you pretty bright.

* * *

"May... May, oh my Gods! May it's August 14th: our baby is five years old. I might scream. May, May where did the time go?! Who gave him permission to age May? I sure as hell didn't so if it was you I will kick you-" May, who was sat lightly giggling the whole time Mary rambles and cuts Peter's favourite fruits into heart and star shapes.

"Take a breath, Mary, holy shit. He's not even awake yet and you're freaking out. Cut your damn fruit and calm down, woman." She hugs Mary around her waist with one arm and pushes Mary's hair over her shoulder with the other. 

"Yes, our boy is getting old, but they do that. You've just got to focus on the fact you've spent that time with him and it will balance itself out." Mary sighs and relaxes in the arms of her best friend.

"You're right, as usual. Thank you, May." May kisses Mary on the temple and walks off to wake Peter. After all, he has presents to open and pancakes and fruit to eat!

* * *

"Petey, baby!" Mary called, clad in pyjamas and hair a mess around her shoulders, as she heard his door open to signal his waking.

"Yes, mama?" He replies, soft-voiced, as he toddles into the kitchen where his dearest mother stands. She swoops him up into his arms with the biggest smile and kisses him on the nose, eyes twinkling and full of mischief.

"Guess what day it is?" Peter smiles and giggles, pretending not to know.

"Wha?" Mary gives the most dramatic gasp one has ever heard (nearly coughing due to the strain on her throat but she'd never admit it - the drama is in her veins, okay, as she's great at it) and pretends to be upset.

"What do you _mean_ 'wha'? My baby boy do you not remember? My sweet son has forgotten his own mother's birthday?" Pete hides behind his fist a secret laugh, a sound that permanently fills Mary with an unmeasurable joy.

"Noooo, silly mama, that was last year!" The same joke she's made all five of her son's own birth anniversaries. 

"They happen every year, you know? I can't believe you'd forget!" She wipes away a fake tear, and her son can no longer hide his laughs, the mirth shining in now closed brown eyes as his tinkling laugh, so similar to his mother's own, fills the kitchen.

"I no forget! I got you sumfin!" He wriggled to be put down, and as soon as his tiny socked toes hit the floor he ran to his room and back, returning with a box in his hands. So excited, the biggest smile, hair in his eyes, he holds the box out. Bouncing the whole time, of course.

"For me? Petey how did you even-" 

"Auntie May took me last week and I saved mine pocket money. Jus open it, mama!"

The woman found herself once again wondering what it was she'd done to be given such an angel of a son as she unwrapped the box to see a handmade card on top, something he must have made that previous weekend he stayed with Mary's pseudo-sister because Mary had been away for SHIELD work. A folded piece of cardstock, with finger-painted flowers on the front. Sunflowers, her favourite, in yellow paint and drawn over the top with black marker in that crude way only a child can manage. Inside a barrage of large child-ish writing covering the whole folded page.

"Mama," she read, trying not to cry at her treasure of a son as he looked on, filled with anticipation. "Happy Birthday! I love you so so so much. You are 26 now and I can't wait to eat cake with you! You're gonna look so pretty in your present and I can't wait to see. Love you! From Petey." She knelt onto the ground, leaving the box and card on the counter so she could squeeze him in the tightest hug his little ribcage could cope with, picking him up into the air with a laugh and a few hidden tears. She placed him to sit on the counter and kissed over his entire face three times over. 

"Thank you, my baby. I love you so much!" 

"How much, mama?"

"More than all the stars in the sky." His eyes, always filled with wonder now filled with a mix of love and tears.

"You're the only star that matters, mama." They took a moment to just hug until Peter got impatient, Mary so overwhelmed by the emotion her son so easily invoked in all those around him.

"Now look at your gift mama! I wanna see you wear it, pleaseeeeeeeeeeee?!" She laughed and looked into the box to see a neatly folded bundle of white fabric sat in the tissue paper lining it. She pulled it out to see the pretty white dress she saw in the thrift shop around the corner and instantly fell in love with. It was seven dollars she couldn't afford that week if she wanted to get Peter's birthday LEGOs, so with sorrowful eyes, she walked past it and tried to pretend she wasn't sad about it. Peter, always observant but never acting as though he is, prattled on about their time at the park but remembered where to come the next day with May.

Peter hopped down off of the counter (giving his mother a heart attack) and pushed her into her bedroom to change with excited rambling. He shut the door behind him as he left, always polite, and sat in the living room for her to finish. Short moments passed like hours while he sat, but six minutes later he saw he walk so elegantly into the room.

The top was entirely white, a thick yellow band bringing in her waist, and sunflowers patterned over the flowing skirt. It came down to her knees and swished with every step she took. She had put a pair of white flats on to match, and they tapped lightly on the floor in the way cheap shoes do, coated in plastic to make them look strong. She'd brushed her hair up and expertly braided it to sit like a crown at the front, with the rest of her hair flowing in a way Peter had only see Disney princesses and his mama manage. He knew then there was no one more pretty than his mama, but all he could say was a tiny 'wow' before he dove at her to hug her legs with all the love in his heart.

And, as they so often did, they whispered 'I love you' for only the other to hear.

* * *

Mary had worked late the night before to finish today's work and May had been gifted the day off, especially for Peter's sixth birthday. They knew just what he wanted: an ungodly amount of LEGO, time with his mama and auntie, and a day at the park. This meant that after their very large breakfast Peter was bouncing off the walls ready to go outside and run like a spider on LSD. 

"Peter I'm going to need you to calm down a little sweetheart. You just ate a lot and I don't want you getting sick, okay?" Her tone was so sweet because his joy almost made up for the fact that Peter had woken up at half-past six that morning. His happiness was always pretty contagious. Not entirely, but enough that Mary didn't want to fall asleep on the spot.

"Yes, mama! Jus excited! Can we go to the park with the doggies and the climb frame and the swing? Pretty please?" May and Mary both smile and tell him to grab his coat. It was pretty chilly for August, and they didn't want him catching a cold. This lead to them moments later sitting on a subway together. Peter sits tightly sandwiched between the two - the ladies always being slightly worried about the sorts of freaks you can find on sketchy public transport. Luckily for the pair, it's only a short trip and the find themselves walking down the street a matter of minutes later. He holds both of their hands to ensure he stays safe whenever they go out. He likes to hold both of their hands and have them swing him occasionally. It always makes him giggle.

"Ready, patatino?" Asks May, before she and Mary begin to count together.

"One... Two... _Three!_ " On three they swing him forward and back again as he tucks his feet up so they don't drag on the ground. His laughs light the entire street over the noise of people and traffic, making a few people look towards them and smile.

"Mama, mama, May, again! Please?!" He bounces a little as he asks, eyes glittering. May wonders if he realises how powerful his begging eyes are. Just as Mary and May were about to count again a man leans out of a window from a parked car just ahead of them and gives a long whistle.

"You two girls together? You're pretty hot. Bet all three of us could have a good time." He winks at them. Peter doesn't understand what the man meant he only know it made him pretty uncomfy. He looks towards his mama, but she isn't looking at him - instead glaring at the uncomfy man in the car.

"You sexist, lesbian fetishising, homophobic asshole!" Peter's mouth opens as if to repeat the last word just as May speaks to him.

"Nuh-uh mister, that's mama's word - you don't get to use it." He sighs and goes back to listen to his mother - who is still very much yelling at the man. It starts to draw attention, a few people getting out their various Blackberry or Nokia phones to record the ordeal - including May.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I have my son with me, and you have the _audacity_ to talk to me like that? You disgust me. As though it isn't bad enough you decide you can turn someone's entire sexuality into something to please you - which is a gross way to behave - but you think that it's okay to yell about in a public place? You should think yourself lucky I have my angel of a boy with me, or I'd kick your ass. Do you realise this is street harassment? I doubt you know what that is. Someone who thinks okay to say that sort of thing wouldn't be up to date with that kind of social activism. You should be ashamed of yourself. Maybe think about your words before you speak, yeah? It will save the embarrassment of a woman having to show you up. Now, if you don't mind me, my _sister_ and I are going to take my boy to go pet dogs because I'm a _kickass_ mum. Have a good day!" She blows him a heavily sarcastic kiss and the three keep on walking as though Mary didn't just shake every person within hearing range.

"Mama, what does those first words mean?" Peter asks. He's proud of him mama, but he doesn't know why. He wants to know why his mama is the best.

"Well, a sexuality is who you're attracted to. Lesbian is one of those. It's what you call it when a lady falls in love with another lady." Peter gasps and looks at his mama.

"They can do that?!" May and Mary laugh.

"Yes, patatino. Men can love other men too, that's called being gay. You can also love both ladies and men, which is called being bisexual. Think you've got that?" His face scrunched up a little, and the women gave the poor lad a moment to process all the information he got all at once. They walk for a few moments more. They spot the park off in the distance just as Pete speaks up again.

"Otay, so," He takes a big deep breath. "lesbian is a lady who likes ladies, gay is a man who likes men, and bisexual likes both?" May and mary both smile and congratulate him, so he smiles super wide, happy he learnt something new that made his mama and auntie happy.

"Wha about the other ones?" Mary takes a breath and May giggles.

"I think the second one will have to wait until you're older, tesoro. Sexist, though, that's when someone thinks their gender is better than someone else's or uses stereotypes about someone else's gender." This only gives Peter more questions!

"What's gender mean? And ster-oh-type?"

"Stereotype, sweetie. It means what everyone thinks a group of people act like. Your gender is how you want someone to see you as. So my gender is female, that means I want people to see me as a girl. If your gender is male that means that you want people to see you as a boy. Some people aren't either or are a mix of both, but people aren't so nice about that." His little nose scrunched up and his eyebrows pulled down towards his eyes. Pete would pull the same face every time he was confused but thinking - the two ladies found it adorable.

"But I thought that if you were a boy or a girl was your body?" 

"Nope! Some people are born in a body that doesn't match what they think they are, so they can change to be how they want! You remember how I told you clothes don't have to be boy clothes or girl clothes, they're just clothes? It's the same with bodies!" Peter, finally understanding, smiles.

"What's that called?" He asks as they push open the gate into the park.

"Transgender." He stands for a moment with a big smile before he turns to look at his two favourite ladies.

"Thank you for answering my questions! I think I get it now... Can we get ice cream?!" And that was the end of that conversation.

* * *

"Tony Stark at his latest press conference announces himself to be the famous Iron Man. Our reporter, Sally Whinstead, reports now with-" Peter bounces pointing at the screen.

"Mama mama mama! Tony Stark is the Iron Man! I wanna be just like him when I grow up!" He bounced excitedly as he clicked together more LEGOs to make his WallE replica. Mary and May make eye contact for a moment and decide that maybe it's time to tell Peter who his dad is.

"Petey, baby, come sit here with mama and Auntie May for a second..." she says, patting the sofa next to her. He runs right over, always loving to sit and cuddle with his mama and May. "Do you remember what I said about your dada?" Peter had got a little more inquisitive about that once he started going to school. He came home crying after being picked on, ending in May and Peter having a one to one about his dad.

"You said that I don't know my dada because he's sexist and mean, but he knows that I'm his son in case of a big big big emergency and that it doesn't matter that he's icky, because you and May love me enough for ten of him. I don't want him to be my dada if he's that icky anyway!" May and Mary share a little giggle, both at the irony and the fact that Peter had never said that before.

"That's just right. Do you know anything about Tony Stark?" Peter's eyes lit up.

"He's Iron Man!" Mary and May laugh a little before May presses on.

"Anything else?" At a shake of his head, May keeps speaking. "He's sexist and mean." Peter gasps.

"Like my dada? That's icky! Iron Man can't be icky!" He makes his little angry face. "I don't like Iron Man anymore." Mary doesn't know if that's a good thing or not, and honestly, May quite can't decide either.

"We're telling you this Petey, not to make you hate Iron Man, but because Tony Stark is your daddy." Peter's little angry face melts away into one of surprise, then disgust, then curiosity and bashfulness.

"C-Could..." He wrings his hands. "Could we watch stuff about him? Jus so I can see more?" Mary smiles. She'd never cut her son off from information about his father, even if said father is a massive prick.

"Of course we can baby!" She even tried to find some of the few good articles of him. Peter ends up coming to his own conclusion that he doesn't like Stark much.

* * *

"Do you have to leave mama? I don't want you to go away again!" Peter wails, fat tears rolling down his face. Mary scoops him up to press kisses against his red cheeks and wipes away his tears.

"Yes, Petey, I'm sorry. Mama will be back before you know it, cherub. Only four days and I'll be home. Auntie May will be here the whole time, and we can call once I get to England. Just four days, baby." He kisses her cheek.

"Just four days? Promise?" May and Mary giggle.

"I promise, Petey. You won't even notice I'm gone before I'm home again." They cuddle as Peter mumbles about how he always notices when she's not there. May and Mary share a hug, and Peter is changed in arms. He cries into May's shoulder as his mama leaves in a way he hadn't in a while. 

"I love you, Petey, baby." She says with a kiss on his forehead. He wraps his arms around her neck.

"I love you too, mama." She leaves with a quick goodbye to May and another shared declaration of love to her son. Peter had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was right to feel so too, as Mary's plane went down before it got to London Airport, not one body to be found.


	2. Best Friends That Make It Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has to move in with his father because of course he does. Things just couldn't get worse for him, could they? At least he meets a new friend - that makes up for it.
> 
> TW for super light homophobia - but there's really not a lot of it, so you don't need to worry. Just like one paragraph. This should be the last chapter including it :)

Peter's birthday and Christmas were really hard that year. Peter sat awkwardly, not wanting to show May how sad he was, thinking about his mama. May, of course doing the same. They tried to pretend for a while; it didn't go very well... They cried hard as they opened gifts, hugging each other tightly. They cried again as they eat burnt food that wouldn't have been but _Mary didn't cook it._ They sat and watched bad Christmas movies so they could make fun of them.

They managed to stay in their home for another four months after Christmas, only May didn't make enough on her own to keep it. They ended up moving somewhere smaller in another part of Queens. Peter's room had blue walls, but he'd always wake up expecting to see yellow.

May had started taking more shifts at work, and Peter had started spending more time with a lovely old lady who lived down the hall. Her name was Delilah, and in a weird way, she reminded him of his mama. He didn't mind that he'd spend the time there while May was at work, and she didn't mind when all he did was play LEGOs and mumble about his mama whenever she moved towards her old record player and ask she not turn it on. He would always draw her a picture to make up for it.

Of course though, nothing can go Peter's way. In a matter of a year and a couple of months, no matter how many hours May takes, they can no longer afford the apartment. This was one the cheapest places May could find that would house them both. She had nothing she could really do anymore. She just couldn't make enough. Just after Pete's birthday too. This, of course, left her with only one option. She was going to need to call... _him_.

* * *

"I know we're not too fond of him, tesoro, but I'm fairly sure he's not very fond of us either." He sighs with a heavy pout, shooting her the sad eyes. She gently flicks his nose.

"Now, come on, you know what they do to me. We can't stay here anymore, patatino. You know I wouldn't make you stay there unless I had no other choice..." He gives May a sorry smile and gives her a big hug.

"I know, Auntie May, I'm sorry. I just don't want to have to stay there because he's gross." May laughs softly, neither of them having laughed properly in a while.

"Don't you know it. Come on, patata, time to go get in his big fancy car." Peter giggles and takes her hand. Neither of them look back at the flat that never felt like home. Peter does look longingly across at Delilah's door though. He had said goodbye the day before, but it sort of felt wrong to him not to say goodbye as he was going. Then again, that seemed to be something that he should be getting used to.

The car out front was most certainly big and fancy. He pretended he wasn't awed when he got in though. There was no one inside, but he still didn't want to give Stark the satisfaction.

"Hello, I'm Happy." May sighed slightly.

"I'm tired and a little hungry after packing so much. I'm sure you're pretty hungry too, huh tesoro?" The man very obviously stifled a smile.

"Uh, no, my name is Happy, Happy Hogan." May turned a little pink, but Peter - every part his mother - made eye-contact with him in the mirror and said something that made the whole car pause.

"Well, that's pretty unlucky for you, huh?" May was practically wheezing trying to hard how hard she wanted to laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth. When she and Peter looked a each other neither of them could stay quiet any longer. Their fatigue and the hilarity of the situation had them both laughing in a deep, soulful way they hadn't in a long time. They both wiped away tears as Happy started driving towards wherever it was they were going, Happy behind the wheel pretending he didn't bark out a laugh at the kid's comment too. 

"God, you sounded just like your mother." That caused a melancholy joy to fill the entirety of the car. Peter would be honoured if he grew to be a fraction of his mother.

It took twenty minutes until they finally stopped, Peter and May whispering and joking about the consequences of stealing the car later for a joyride. Happy would chip in every now and again if they got too loud to tell them that if he was bought some chocolate chip cookies ('The good ones. Some of that white chocolate stuff.') he could probably be prompted to turn a blind eye to a pair of keys going missing. May planned on going on a walk later that day with Pete - totally not to find some decent cookies. {Even if they both knew that no _good_ cookie had white chocolate in it.}

"And we're here. We'll have the movers take your bags up, I'll take you to where you need to be." He let them know as he opened the door for them. They were lead through the pristine white entrance hall of Stark Industries Tower and into a sleek elevator.

"Penthouse, Mister Hogan?" Came a voice from the ceiling. The two clueless Parker's looked for speakers, not that they could see any.

"Thanks, JARVIS." Peter and May look at Happy expectantly for a moment before it registers with him that not every building has sentient elevators. "That's JARVIS, Tony's AI. He'll be helping run the penthouse, so if you need anything ask him - not me." Peter gave a sly smile that he hid. He knew at some point he'd be asking JARVIS to contact Happy for him. The two, instead of voicing their mischievous plans, make agreeable awkward conversation sounds (you know the ones) and attempt to make small talk that Happy pretty much ignores. When the lift dings to a stop, the young boy felt awfully worried that Tony Stark may be behind those doors waiting for him. It may be horrible, but he didn't see himself actually getting on with the man. He'd try to be polite and make it work, of course he would, but he had a nagging feeling Tony wasn't going to be much involved.

Luckily for him, there was instead a woman. She looked really sweet, but stern. Her blonde hair tucked itself neatly up in a perfect bun. She was in jeans and a button-up shirt, not a wrinkle to be seen.

"Hello! I'm Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and friend to Tony Stark. Tony's hard at work in he lab and meetings I'll have to drag him to today, so I've been given the day off to help settle you in. You must be May, and you must be Peter. Very nice to meet you both at last!" They both smile and give her a hug, pretending to be surprised Tony didn't come to greet them. 

"Hello, Mary told me about you. You were there at the DNA test, weren't you?" Pepper nodded.

"She was a lovely woman, I'm so sorry for your loss." Mary sighed and looks to a now upset Peter, scooping him into her arms.

"So are we." She ran her fingers through his curly brown mop and kissed the top of his forehead before setting him back down. They held hands as they were lead through a tour of Tony's penthouse floor, then one of the floor below, which they were informed would be theirs. Pepper gave a short run around the medical floor too, hearing that's where May would be working now she lived in the building rent-free. They went back to their floor then, noticing all their boxes and furniture had been brought up. They could unpack it all later.

"So... Drinks?" 

* * *

It was three weeks before Peter saw Tony, which he found pretty impressive. They lived literally a floor below him. They shared a lift.

"Hey there, Petey." The name should have felt warm and like his mama, but instead it sounded forced and distant. It hurt a little.

"Don't call me that." He glared at the billionaire. "My mama called me Petey. Don't call me that." The man was kind of taken aback by the tone of the boy, but before he could snap a gentle hand rested on little Pete's shoulder.

"Hey now, patatino, we don't snap. Rewind." He watched in something like diluted fascination as all emotion drained from Peter's face, and all tension dispersed from his body. A smile wormed its way onto his face, and he spoke again, Tony mouthing 'potato chip?' to himself in the meantime.

"Hello, Stark. If you don't mind, could you call me Peter? My mama used to call me Petey."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever, kid. Just came to say hi. How old are you? Like, three?" May rolled her eyes a little.

"He's eight, actually."

"Great. Think me and my boy could get some alone time? I should get to know my son." Pepper's idea. He had to have at least four hours of quality time with the boy before JARVIS would unlock his lab again. He thought he may as well get it out of the way. May looked down at the boy in question to see if he wanted that. He gave a sigh and heavily reluctant nod, so May supposed it would be okay.

"Alright then, I'm going to go see if they need some spare hands in medical. Enjoy your time." If she asked JARVIS to let her know if anything went wrong so she could run up again, that would be no one's business.

"So, kid. You at school?" God Peter had never felt a room more awkward.

* * *

Done. He is absolutely done. If Peter has to hear Tony Stark's stupid voice again in the next hour he may rip the man's tongue out. What kind of guy just up and tells a kid his dead mother is probably happier now that she doesn't have to deal with him? That's messed up! They spend four long, awkward hours together and not only can he not be a nice guy to _his own child_ but he can't be nice about that child's _recently dead mother_? What the hell!

Peter stops his way out of the elevator and into the entrance. From there he runs out of the tower and to the park he'd go to with May and his mama. It's so close now. He sits on the swing - luckily the whole place is empty. It usually was whenever he was there. Weird. He rocks himself back and forth for a while, eyes closed and just hoping May doesn't get too mad or worried. He probably should have told someone he left, but it's not exactly like Stark tried to stop him when he barged his way into the elevator. Besides, May probably knows that he'd come here.

Someone walks and sits on the swing next to them. Peter opens his eyes to see a girl next to him. Her hair is super curly and frizzy and pulled back into a neat ponytail with two little strands of hair dangling around her face. Peter notices that her skin looks like a deep amber in the sun, but he's sure it would be darker if not under the golden light of the sun slowly setting. He's left almost breathless. She's _so_ pretty. He looks away awkwardly, cheeks red, and notices her mother on the bench over at the other end of the park. She's not paying any attention to the pair.

"I saw you run out of Stark's. I asked if we could come see you." Her speaking makes him jump. She doesn't look up from her book. 

"Cool." A silence falls, but it's comfortable.

"Why were you there?" He sighs deeply, and finally she looks in his direction. Her eyebrow is raised in an expectant way that seems practiced.

"He's my dad." Sure, Peter's smart for an eight-year-old, but that doesn't mean he knows that him being Tony's son is a secret.

"Sorry."

"Me too." They both giggle a little. Peter notices this gains her mother's attention.

"I don't really like Tony Stark." Peter sighs with a smile.

"Yeah, me either." They make eye contact, and together they chorus the same word.

"Sexist." They decide there that they have to stay friends. 

* * *

"Pepper, darling, this is an intervention," May says seriously as she and Pete force Pepper to sit in a chair in front of them. Peter nodded solemnly. "Because we can see the way you're looking at Stark, and it needs to stop." She blushed deeply.

"You can't crush on him Pep, or he'll crush your heart! You see what he's like with the ladies!"

"Not to mention the fact you practically babysit him."

“I don’t know what you mean.” Pepper attempts to deny. She didn’t convince herself -it sounded fake to even her own ears

“You know what she means! He’s gross, you don’t want to be married to a toddler. Get over him. Find a nice man who you won’t have to be chasing after all the time. Mr Stank doesn’t have to be your hobby!” The two ladies wheeze out a laugh.

”Mr Stank?!”

”It fits, okay!”

And that was that. Only moving forward for Pepper. Besides, she’s worth ten of Stark.

* * *

"Um, hi MJ! This is Peter. Me and May were wondering if you want to come to the tower and have a sleepover on Saturday for my birthday?" They had been hanging out a lot lately. May was pretty sure they would be best friends for a long time. They don't go to the same school and yet they don't ever go more than three days without seeing each other.

"Sure, stupid, I'll be over at eleven." Peter can hear her smiling.

"Awesome! Wear something you can go out in, May says Stark can buy us ice-cream!" Pepper had started making the man go out with Peter once every two weeks. Peter doesn't see him otherwise.

"And we're going to?" She asks expectantly. In tandem they sing 'make his pockets hurt' to the tune of 'whistle while you work'. A little tune they had started singing when Pepper said he could take Tony's card to get May birthday gifts. 

The days remaining at school passed achingly slowly as Peter waited for Saturday to raise its bleary head. He put on his favourite outfit - one just ike his mamas favourite : a white t-shirt tucked into a yellow skirt with little sunflowers and white trainers. He had MJ paint little sunflowers on them like his mama used to do. He isn't as good at painting as MJ. He grabbed his little Clairs makeup pallete and rubbed yellow over his eyes, nose, and cheekbones. MJ said it makes him look like a little yellow mushroom. Peter thinks it makes him look like a Disney prince. He adds a yellow hoodie to combat the cold.

"You really make him go outside wearing shit like that?" Comes from the doorway as he ties his laces. It makes him angry.

"Auntie May doesn't 'make' me do anything. I choose my own outfits. I like it, reminds me of mama." Tony sighs.

"I better not get recognised." He pulls on sunglasses and a baseball cap before they head down to the entrance. MJ is sat on the steps outside and jumps up the moment she sees him, pretending not to be excited.

"Happy Birthday loser. Maybe now you're older you'll finally get taller than me." Peter rolls his eyes and hugs her.

"I love you too. And I'm always older!" She scoffs but ruffles his hair, much to his indignation. They hold hands as they walk down the road, Tony and May behind them. MJ turns around, grabbing Pete's hand with her other one so she can walk backwards and talk to May without tripping.

"You look alright, May." May blushes slightly, used to MJ's way of speaking. She knows that's a high compliment.

"Why thank you, Michelle. You look rather pretty yourself." She does. Her jeans are worn and slightly torn in places and have little studs and safety pins randomly dotted in fitting areas. Her white t-shirt really pops under a black cropped hoodie. 

Peter gently pulls her towards him just as she is about to back into a streetlamp.

"You do." He says just as she goes to deny May's statement in that cool, uncaring way she does. Instead, her cheeks flush pink (though she'd kill anyone that says so) and she turns back around. Peter hears Stark chuckle behind him and can practically sense the stupid about to fall from his face.

"Ooooh got two lovebirds here then? I would have thought he'd be one of the fruity ones." This is why MJ hadn't been around Tony too much. May and Peter knew she'd get angry and rant at the man. They may not like him, but they do appreciate him letting them live with him (even if because he was forced by Pepper), and frankly, MJ gets scary when she's mad.

"Excuse you?" She snaps. She stops and turns on the spot, forcing him to stop. "What do you mean by that? 'one of the fruity ones'. What do you mean by that Mr Self-Righteous? You better not be saying what I think you are." Tony, for a genius, is pretty damn stupid May notices.

"Y'know..." He makes some hand gestures that don't really mean very much at all. "The gay ones." Peter snickers, much to Stark's confusion. He gets a look at clearly means 'why are you laughing', so decides he should clue in.

"Just you're acting like my clothes decide who I'm in love with. Like some gay version of the sorting hat. I just find that pretty funny." He shrugs, May laughs openly.

"The sexuality scarf." That makes May laugh harder. MJ said it with such a flat tone that it came across so serious. It has them both giggling together.

"Hmm... Lots of skirts in your closet... But love monster trucks? Must be... bisexual!" May says through gaps in her laughter. At that point the three are in tears, wheezing through their connected jokes, now walking again. This does leave Tony rather confused though.

"What's bisexual?" The three others pause. 

"Aren't you like... Fifty?" MJ asks, Peter ignores his indignant ' _I'm forty_ ' and awkward spluttering to laugh instead.

"It's when you like two or more genders. You know... like if you like men and women?" May explains and a very obvious realisation dawns on Tony's face.

" _Oh._ " The other three snicker and push open the door to the ice cream shop. Damn Peter wants some gummy worms.

* * *

He didn't know why he called a super-secret urgent code red at the knowledge of her existence, but he was very suspicious of her. Why he had no idea, but Natalie had that aura of always knowing more than you, and he had caught her looking at him oddly on more than one occasion already. MJ was at the tower in a matter of minutes.

"What's up, mushroom boy?" He scowled. Maybe he was wearing red today, but he doesn't look like a mushroom! ... Okay, maybe he does, but that wasn't the intention! It just reminded him of the skirt his mama got him and he wanted a day to be a mama's boy. Sue him!

"We have a new lady in the top levels of the tower and I think she's suspicious. We're gonna spy on her using JARVIS and our super-secret kid hiding, alright?" She looked at him like he was stupid for a moment.

"Peter." She sighed when he didn't seem to realise what she was pointing at. "Peter you're wearing bright red. You don't blend in very well." He smirked. That's not a good sign, he put on his planning face. MJ is scared of his planning face, it usually means she has to do something painfully stupid Peter will invent and somehow have work out. He's like a dumb good luck charm, they never go wrong. MJ likes to think this is how May felt when Mary would start planning, frankly. May seems to think it is.

"Does that mean that your purple and white is too bright too? Can I dress us up?! I'm dressing us up. Spy mission!" God damn it.

Pete grabbed her hand and dragged her through the hall to his room. He had some clothes that fit her in a separate drawer for when she stayed over so she didn't need a bag. She also had a toothbrush in his bathroom, not that that would be necessary right now. She knew Peter wasn't likely to touch her clothes here though. He's going to expect her to wear a skirt to run about the tower like some kind of comic book goddess.

"Okay, okay, okay, wow I'm excited! Do we need hoodies or t-shirts? Or a cardigan? Longsleeve, or short? Help me MJ you're the kick-butt spy lady!" She, despite her wishes, snorted at the way he spun in circles like a dog at a tennis match as he rambled on. She could play along a little... Only for Peter, she totally wasn't having fun!

"Longsleeve t-shirt. Plain black. Turtle neck - no don't look at me like that, I know you own some, stupid - and black leggings."

"I'm not wearing _leggings_! A crime against fashion. I don't even own any. How dare you?" They laughed together for a moment before Peter continued his rant, but it was painfully true. Peter had a big thing against leggings. May had asked if he wanted a couple of pairs once and he ranted for fifteen minutes. He only finally shut up when MJ threw a pillow at his head, but the pair of women swear to every higher power possible he easily could and would have continued if allowed. He started a pillow fight between the group instead.

"-not to mention that they aren't flattering at all and only make anyone who doesn't look like the models that wear them in ads feel horrible because they think that they can't have natural bodies to look good and it's disgusting. I don't agree with the symbol of hating yourself they come with. Let alone the itchiness of them, I mean have you ever worn them for longer than a couple hours? They feel disgu- Ouch! What was that for, I'm ranting!"

"Exactly. Shut up." He gasped dramatically with twinkling eyes.

"How dare you, do you know who my father is? I'll have you sued for speaking to me that way, peasant." She hit his across the back of the head again.

"Shut up and get me a skirt, idiot, I know you want to." He squealed and thankfully stopped. Just like the leggings rant she knew he'd just go on and on about lawsuits the same way Stark would in the same situation. (Though, Stark would likely not be kidding...)

They ended up dressed from head to toe in black, with matching smokey black makeup to match, completed by a black stripe below each eye for 'camouflage' according to MJ. 

Their socked feet made no sound as they crept down Stark's hallways. JARVIS had helpfully let them know where this 'Natalie Rushman' was, and neither of them much liked it, so they were making sure to be extra quiet. After all, why would she be in Tony's (for he had been upgraded from 'Stark' by Peter, purely to end the odd looks and questions supplied by Aunt Pepper) office? She had no reason to be, especially not alone. Peter let MJ look around the corner of the door when they got there. She always seemed to have a way to lurk without notice, and here they were both going to exploit that. The minute she did she turned back around the corner and pulled Pete safely out of whisper-hearing range.

"She's downloading files, and from how tense she is, I don't think it's authorised... To Pepper?"

”To Pepper.” They ran the way to her office at full sprint. 

“Pep! Pepper! Pep! Red alert! Red alert!” She immediately stopped typing. She and Peter organised a system for if he needed something. Red meant it really could not wait - life or death emergency level.

“What’s up, Pete?” He, puffed from running so far, dragged from his inhaler. MJ spoke for him instead.

”We saw that Natalie Rushman woman downloading files or whatever onto a flash drive from Mr Stank’s office. She was alone in there so I don’t think she was permitted. You were our first bet.” Pepper got steadily more pale as MJ went on. She nodded with a ‘let’s go’ and marched professionally out of the room, kids at her heels. 

* * *

"Emma!" Peter yelled, banging obnoxiously on her bedroom door. "Em! Emma! MJ! Em! Michelle! Michelle Jones, you open this darn door!" MJ's parents stand at the end of the hall with May, giggling, Tony Stark by their sides staring at his phone and trying to pretend he wasn't in some poor people's flat in Queens.

"What do you want, mushroom boy?!" She yells back through the door. He pushes down a laugh to instead glare at the hunk of wood as though he could burn a hole through it.

"I want you to get the hell out here so I can hug your stupid self and whisk you away to the land of iced cream and gummy worms you say you don't like but we both know you love! And then, whether you like it or not, you're going to spend the weekend with me in Feminist Tower Incorporated and have a great time doing nerd things with me, and then we're going to spy on that new lady, Natalie, again." Which totally didn't make Stark splutter out half-made defences about 'betterment' and 'stronger sexes' for five minutes.

A heavy sigh can be heard through the door and soon enough MJ emerges from her sleep cave, no longer in what Peter knows for a fact was one million per cent a unicorn onesie.

"Emma, it's midday. You'd sleep your whole birthday away!" He squeezes her in a tight hug. May giggles once more off to the side.

"Emma?" She asks. That's not a name she could imagine MJ letting anyone use.

"Don't call me Emma." She glares slightly at May - she'd never fully glare at her, she holds to much respect for the woman - and then continues on a slight tangent. "Only Peter can call me Emma. I don't know how the rat boy has convinced me to allow it, but I will." May gives the most characteristic sarcastic hum. 

“Are we going or not?” MJ demands more than asks. They all know she’s embarrassed and move on quickly. Peter really learnt how to worm his way into MJ’s heart.


	3. Oh My, Gods!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for The Avengers to come together, and also for Peter and MJ to decide some things. Will it be chaos? Certainly. Will you enjoy it? Certainly not. Time for some anti-Tony content and the start of anti-Cap. We're going to see sick Peter and Natasha being a badass. Loki redemption and a hell of a lot of drama. The story is a bit different, forgive me. It follows Peter, so we won't see the iconic recruitment scenes.
> 
> We won't learn a lot until the next chapter...
> 
> *This chapter is a bit shorter at a little under 4,000 words, and you're going to hate me for the ending, but it fits better. I'm sorry!*

If anyone could say anything about Peter and MJ it's that they were rarely ever wrong. If they were going to state something they had researched it or had a legitimate reason to believe it - which was why Pepper so openly believed Peter that _something_ was off about this Natalie woman. That was clearly cemented when they stormed her office. She couldn't be certain she'd still be in Tony's office but she marched, kids in tow, in that direction regardless. She had so many questions flooding her mind. Why was Natalie downloading files? To sell them to another company, or was she already sent by one? What was she downloading?

Wait... Could it be about The Avengers Initiative? Tony had opened up to her about the whole thing, but said he was told he could take part because of his 'volatile, self-obsessed nature and lack of will to work with others'. Which, she couldn't say was wrong, but would have preferred it not be the reason he was rejected. He could do good things after all. The reason he was rejected should have been that his selfish and self-obsessive nature meant he'd do stupid shit without thinking about it. What if they decided they couldn't judge based on personality anymore and just needed more hands? They'd have to do some research to make sure he really wasn't selling weapons under the table and going through with the charity work he had announced he was doing. They'd need to collect all that data... All of which, Pepper had just informed Natalie (as his receptionist), would be relocated to his office. It all seemed to fall into place. She paused. She'd need to know for certain.

"Kids?" She whispered, knowing they weren't far enough from the office to speak any louder. "You wanna take your spying next level?" She was obviously met with over-enthusiastic nods. Natalie should never have mentioned she loved kids because she had two of the cutest most conniving ones possible.

* * *

"No, Fury, listen. I don't know how it happened, but the next thing I know I had told them everything. I think the children have mind control powers-"

* * *

Peter and May found themselves on a plane a matter of weeks later. Every part of it screamed high-tech, and they tried to keep themselves close to Doctor Banner. Peter was ecstatic to meet the man, knowing what a genius he was. He spoke to him a mile a minute about his 'revolutionary work' and 'awesome theses', Doctor Banner looked almost in tears all the while. When they finally boarded, May managed to slow Peter's incessant rambling enough that he and Bruce had a full conversation about what sciences Peter knew and was interested in. Unbeknownst to Bruce, the plane soon rumbled and soon took to the sky. Neither May nor Peter had been on a plane before, and their ears popping so harshly was something they could have done without. Knowing that the reason they were on some military plane was to go collect a God hellbent on destruction and ruling Earth that Stark had decided he was going to invest himself into capturing made it much worse, even if they knew they'd be safe. Why they had to be there in the first place May didn't know. She was content though to sit in the lab with Bruce while he worked, kindly instructing Peter from across the room on whatever the boy was building out of the man's scraps. When Loki is escorted past the lab Bruce falters, as does May, Peter totally unaware. He looked younger than they expected, maybe twenty years old.

"Ms Parker, we have to get going." He says.

"Where to, exactly? And is Peter not also coming?" The boy looks up at the mention of his name.

"Yeah, am I coming?"

"I don't think so, sorry Peter. I'm going to be taking you to Agent Hill, and then we are going to a meeting." Peter rolls his eyes.

"Oh, delightful. I'm going to be babysat." He says quietly. May doesn't say anything but hits the boy with a glare that makes him sheepish, and he mutters an apology. He found himself with Maria Hill moments later, though she clearly wasn't very good at dealing with kids. She sits invested in her tablet, flipping between three different screens. Two video feeds, and one page for taking notes if Peter could guess. He couldn't see what she was writing or watching though, and he grew desperately bored. He wants to explore.

"Sorry... uhm... Miss? I need the toilet, can you point the way." She sighs, frustrated she has to pull the earphones from her ears, but she tries to hide it. She doesn't do a great job. Whatever she was watching must have been important.

"I can take you if you like?" He smiles and tries to look innocent. May had told him he could get people to kill with that look. 

"No thanks, I'm okay... So, those directions?" He was off the second she finished speaking. He came to a door where he could hear muffled voices after a while of peering down halls to nothing, and silently pushed open the door.

"-an impressive cage." And an empty laugh. "Not built, I think, for me." He found where Loki was being kept? Awesome!

"Built for something a lot _stronger_ than you." Peter tries to think of what they could even be talking about. 

"A mindless beast; makes play he's still a man." So they're talking about Hulk... Poor Doctor Banner - poor _Hulk_... "How _desperate_ are you that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?" And in that tone, Peter heard defiance he knew, one of anger, discomfort and of being trapped. The same one he used around Stark. He doesn't register the monologue occurring, all he can hear is how young Loki sounded in that moment. 

"Well, let me know if 'one of real power' wants a magazine or something." Footsteps sound with the voice, coming towards the door and so Peter ducks in a corner after pulling the door shut, hoping his grey jeans and black hoodie will hide him enough to not be spotted. He was told to dress a little more sturdy and dark so he could mess around in the lab a little to waste time. The tall, darkly dressed man walks past Peter not noticing a thing, and Peter notices the eye nearest him is covered by an eyepatch. He allows himself time to draw parallels between the man and some kind of space pirate with the eyepatch and all the leather before breaking into Loki's room, entirely alone. He watches how tensely the God stands for a second, jumping when addressed.

"I know of your presence, child." Loki spins. "Have you been permitted entrance here?" Peter shook his head. "And are you aware of the dangers I present?" Peter can't help but laugh after just comparing Loki to a child, and Loki is stunned for a moment.

"You're not dangerous, you're a kid in a box." 

"... Pardon? I'm not an infant, boy, I'm a God." Peter smiles and thinks for a moment that he may be wrong. He doubts it though. He could always do the math to check.

"What is the average Asgardian lifespan?" Loki splutters about the relevance before Peter prompts him once more.

"5071 at approximate." Peter taps away at his calculator watch for a second before looking back up at Loki.

"And your age?" He sighs.

"1048..." Loki mumbles and Peter smiles. 

"Now, if you divide the average human lifespan (79) by the Asgardian one (5071), then times it by your age (1048), you'll find that you, according to humans, are like 16 years old. Making you, Loki, a child, and one only like 6 years older than me." Loki sighs and looks to think and consider options for a minute before his body shifts, not only to one much younger but after a moment longer also to one appearing female.

"Very well. I have the viewing devices looped. I suppose, as you have figured it out, I can show myself to you." Peter is gobsmacked for a minute.

"No way!" He exclaims. "You're actually genderfluid? Like in the myths?" 

"What is... gender fluid? It sounds like rather odd sustenance." Peter laughs uncontrollably. He allows himself a minute to picture what that may look like before remembering he should explain it to the steadily more frustrated Goddess.

"No no no, it's where your gender (Loki looks more puzzled here, and so Peter explains) - whether you're a boy, a girl, or something else - changes." 

"And you midgardians needed a label for that? Why cannot it be said I simply am a man or am a woman or anything otherwise?" Peter sadly sighs.

"Because some people don't think you can change it. They think you have to be the one you were told you were at birth. Those people are called transphobic." He couldn't help but be reminded of his walk with May and his mama when he was young, and Loki suddenly feels so much younger. Then he heard an echo of his name being called in the hallway by Tony, instantly turning his head.

"Ah, so that is your name:

Peter? Why does Starkson call you?" Peter sighs.

"Unfortunately, I'm a stark son too," He says without thinking before slapping his hand over his mouth. As he got older it became pressingly obvious he was a secret, so he probably shouldn't let someone being held prisoner in on that. "Uh... I mean... My surname is Parker, and you heard nothing that could suggest otherwise." Loki laughs.

"I will not share that fact, child. Now go, Parkerson, before you are found with me." Loki changes back to the way Peter had seen him before, looking more uncomfortable now in a male body. Apparently knowing humans are dumb has made her reluctant to show her genderfluidity. Peter can understand that.

"One more question!" Peter said urgently, needing to know, thinking of the pentagram necklace his mama had worn. "Do you hear prayers?" Loki smiles, and she responds quieter, slightly saddened.

"Yes. Each one directed to me. Though I don't receive many any longer..." Her sadness over the fact hits Peter, and he can feel the change of his belief in his heart. He hadn't believed in religion before, but it can't really be denied when presented with a goddess who can receive people's prayers. Tony's calls sound louder now, no longer an echo.

"Thank you, Goddess Loki. Bye!" He doesn't wait for a response, he simply slips out the door and around a corner, running straight into Stark's chest.

"What are you doing back here, Peter?" The man sighs.

"I got lost on my way back from the bathroom."

* * *

Tony zaps Bruce's side, and Peter desperately forces himself not to speak up about manners. He had to beg to be allowed into the lab again, and he needs to keep his tongue so he can actually finish his project. Besides, he'd only get himself reprimanded by Stark.

"Hey!" He hears the Captain yell. "Are ya nuts?" Peter feels a deep joy not only the scolding of Tony but the thickness of his Brooklyn accent at that moment.

"Jury's out," Peter says automatically, drawing a laugh from Bruce and Steve, much to his elation. Tony goes back to pestering Bruce to cover the embarrassment of being sassed openly by a child.

"You really have a lid on it, huh? What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of..." He looks over at an expectant Peter. "green?" Peter can see Captain America get mad, and he's glad for it.

"Is everythin' a joke to you?" He asks. Stark responds in his usual sassy way, prompting Cap to get madder. "Threatenin' the safety of everyone on this ship ain't funny. There's a kid in the room! No offence meant, Doc" Bruce stumbles through an 'it's alright' excuse, but Peter can tell he's hurt. He probably hears it a lot...

They all bicker and gossip for a moment while Peter gets back to his project. He's so nearly finished. All he really registers is Steve muttering and calling Tony a 'glitterati yuck' and makes a note to find out what _that_ means later.

"It's bugging him too, isn't it?" Tony asks Banner, taking a mouthful of blueberries from a silver package. Peter thinks for a minute that they can't taste good if they come wrapped in foil before remembering he should probably act as though he isn't paying attention, and once more getting involved in his work. That is, until he hears:

"I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don' stay focused he'll succeed." Peter can't help but laugh. All heads in the room turn to him.

"What, Peter?" Bruce asks with an encouraging smile. Tony gives a light glare at the pair.

"Not right now, kid, the grownups are talking," Tony says. Bruce clearly doesn't like his attitude towards the boy much, because he soon comments gently.

"Hey, Tony, let the kid speak." Peter smiles. He really likes Doctor Banner.

"Yeah, because you're in the conversation too, Stark, so it clearly ain't just grownups." Peter and Bruce stifle laughs while Tony preps to go on an angry rant. To the relief of all but Stark, Peter takes that opportunity to speak.

"Well I agree with you, Cap, that he's trying to wind you up, but he's not a man, and he's not trying to start a war." At the confused looks, he continues. Peter knew he would keep Loki's gender secret, but he sure as hell won't be keeping his age. He realises then how 'not a man' may sound otherwise, and quickly rambles. "The average Asgardian lifespan is 5071, and Loki is 1048." Peter can see when the math is completed in Tony and Bruce's mind but doesn't expect Cap to catch up. He was right to think that way, because the man looks blown away when Bruce exclaims loudly.

"He's 16?!" Peter nods; Cap looks astounded.

"How old are you, son?" Peter smiles.

"10." Steve laughs, and Peter doesn't fully get why. His confusion must show because Steve soon claps a hand to his shoulder.

"Already smarter than me..." There's a slightly uncomfortable silence following laughs before Bruce prompts Peter to continue.

"Now I'm not trying to make it sound unimportant, but aren't all Asgardian's mighty warriors? And Loki is pretty damn powerful. If you read his mythology you'd know he's had a bad as hell life, and he's only 16..." Peter trails off for Tony to speak up.

"You think it's just the angsty rebellion of a traumatised teen?" Peter shrugs.

"Like when some kid snaps their cap over ice cream?" Steve asks.

"You have any better logic?"

* * *

"Romanoff. Tea down, the kid has a plan and we're doing it." Fury barks, startling May and making Natasha stand. She and May, who had been enjoying tea and earnest apologies (for May and Natal- Natasha had often spoken and gotten along) were astounded to see Peter. May can't help but think about how, it seems, Peter can hardly ever keep out of trouble.

"What have you gotten yourself into now, patatino?" Peter sheepishly smiles and sits down, shifting in his seat a little.

"I know how to find out Loki's plan, I just needed to know who to ask to do it. See, I did some math, and Loki is about 16 in human years. Think about the stories you read me, May. They're all true. He's been through so much!"

"He's a scared, angry kid who wants attention and help." Natasha pieced together. Peter nodded.

"When I was younger I used to get angry a lot that that men in my life were either gone or gross. I'd be rude and yell. If I wouldn't calm down, May or mama would keep me yelling until I let the issue slip." May looked so shocked he remembered as the plan he created formed in her head.

"I'd say different things until one of them made you slip up. You need someone to make him want to yell, by why, Fury, should it be Natalie - sorry - Natasha?" She asks. She sounds worried. The red-haired woman sighs with a reluctant smile.

"He goes on about injustice. I've done some bad things, I can make it sound like I expect to be forgiven. Tease him some about it. He has someone I know captured, he'd know all about what I've done." Peter and May look uncomfortable.

"I didn't know _that_ was why it had to be you..." He apologetically whispers.

* * *

Peter was fed up. _His_ plan and _his_ findings got them their precious information and the only one to praise him so far had been May. He knew to expect nothing less from Tony, but he was hoping at the very least Bruce would if he came to find him, but instead he finds a verbal battle occuring in the middle of the aforementioned scientist's lab. He listens idly for a minute, silently agreeing or disagreeing, and forming plans of what he'd say back if it were his place. That is, until he hears Tony's voice.

"Everything special about you came out of a _bottle_." His tone is venomous, and Peter doesn't like it much. Steve had been nothing but nice to Peter so far. He steps forward and a deep festering anger he's held for so many years pools in his stomach, forincing fire through his veins. He can't help it, but he knows he's about to yell. Stark has absolutely _no right_ to tell other people what it is that makes them special or important.

"Everything special about you, _Stark,_ is metal. You act like some high and mighty genius when your supposed _genius_ had to be educated by a pair of kids on how not to be an asshole. And yet you still ignore us, don't you? That sounds very clever, doesn't it? You act like some hero for stopping selling weapons because you prance about in one daily instead! How are you a hero when you make fun of someone you helped create because he wears skirts? You're a sexist, misogynistic, hypocritical, lying excuse for a man that kids himself into thinking his actions are okay, and it's why I will _**never**_ call you 'dad'." His tirade mixed with the admission of just who he is (which no one had been informed of) silenced the room. It was clear to all that it had been building up a while. Steve's face twisted into one of disgust.

"You wear skirts like some queer?"

"He does, it's weird. Says it reminds him of his mum. That's the problem with leaving two women to raise a boy. And, _Petey_ I don't get why you're talking like I wanted you either. You were a mistake your mother kept around, and I'm sure she's glad to be dead knowing she doesn't have to put up with you and your smart-ass attitude any longer. Not that you're any better Capsicle. Acting like being gay is such a bad thing. Bet you'd have a heart attack to find out I'm pansexual, huh? Not to mention you're probably racist knowing the time you're from-" This lead to the yelling getting worse once more, everyone chipping in with their opinions as Peter silently cries. Yelling about Stark's insensitivity, Fury yelling at Steve as he reluctantly admits that following a black man seemed wrong. Peter can't help but wonder... Was his mama really be glad to be rid of him? It leads to yet another admission coming from Bruce. A rage-fueled admission leading Peter's sobs to grow harder.

"I tried to put a bullet in my head. The other guy just spit it out." Peter just closes his eyes, and thinking of what he decided earlier he prays to Loki and asks him for a clear head, the rage making it too hard to focus on how to stop the yelling. He finds his broken whispers must have been answered, because the anger recedes to just sadness, and just as Bruce was about to admit his secret to staying calm Peter notices something.

"Doctor Banner... Can you please put the sceptre down?" He asks a near-silent room through tears. Moments later a tone rings from across the room almost like a phone's ringtone.

"Sorry kids, you don't get to see my party trick after all..." He angrily mutters, slamming the scepter down as he walks across the room to the table next to Peter. Peter sits on the floor and lets fresh tears fall, tucking himself under the desk Bruce is typing away at. As the group begin to plan, splitting off and ignoring the crying child, Natasha slips under next to him and holds him close, swaying them softly and singing something in what Peter thinks may be Russian. He's fine with the fact Bruce is leaving him alone, he could see him getting steadily greener around the collar during the shouting match, and Peter knew he'd need a while to calm down. He hears Bruce say 'oh my god' before he finds himself engulfed in an overwhelming sudden heat and flung back hard against the wall. He then smashes through the floor, along with Natasha and Bruce as something explodes from the floor of the center of the room.. His head is fuzzy but he can just about hear Natasha speak. His lungs burn, and he longs for his inhaler. God, he can't breathe.

"We're okay!" She says, before noticing a slightly-greener-than-before Bruce and hardly breathing Peter. "We're okay, right?" She asks quieter. Peter can hear her uncertainty as to who to help first, but he's trapped under the same pole as her leg, his entire body being forced down. He can't reach his inhaler, and it's making him panic. He can't breathe, he can't move, and Bruce is only getting greener.

"Bruce look! Look at Peter! He can't have you going green Banner, he can hardly breathe. He's trapped. He won't be able to escape the hulk, and I'm trapped too so I can't help him." He roars, getting greener quicker now. She changes direction, assuming the reaction was negative. "You'll be okay I swear on my life." He roars in pain once more.

"What kind of life?!" Is all Bruce can angrily spit out before the Hulk fronts himself entirely. Peter finds his vision going black faster now with reluctant fear. He'd like to think Doctor Banner wouldn't let Hulk hurt him but he can't be certain. The pressure mixed with asthma and panic is too much. The last things he registers before passing out are the Hulk running towards him and pulling him out from under the bar just after Natasha escapes herself. A mighty roar comes from Hulk, and an angry yell of 'you lied', before he's chasing Natasha, and Peter is left alone to blackout, unable to breathe in the hallway, still so painfully sad.


	4. Humans Are So Tiring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 from Loki's point of view (I know! Spicy!) as well as everything else that happened.  
> A little bit of a Clint POV too! Not a lot, only like 600 words.  
> Also some Thor POV! Again, not a lot, like 350 words, but it's there! I'm really treating you all with this chapter, huh?  
> Buckle in, this will be a long one! 12,500 words so like yikes!  
> Remember Loki is genderfluid, so their pronouns will rotate between He/She/They! They are using They/Them pronouns at the start then it moves to He/Him for a while. Just remember that they're going to be changing pretty often :)) (just telling you to avoid any confusion that may arise).

The deep voice of the Chitauri leader, The Other, rumbled against the dusty rock ground to be heard by all in the odd dome. Hundreds of thousands, possibly even millions, of unfamiliar creatures filled the arena in such a way that made the entire situation feel like a show. Having all of the eyes fall upon them, Loki felt something they believed may be power. They forced down the fear, not needing it to encroach on the marvelousness of holding awe-filled attention that, for once, was directed at them.

"The Tesseract has awakened. It is on a little world: a human world; they would wield its power, but our ally, here, knows its worth as they never will." The arena, previously dark, began to glow blue with the natural luminescence of the Chitauri army as they pressed their faceplates in their correct place with the rest of their armour. Loki could hear a cheer begin to seep through the crowd, and even in their position knelt before The Other, face hidden by the thick cloak their brother had fashioned them from the skin of Hakurel, they felt that they were in control. 

"They are ready to lead, and our force - our Chitauri - will follow." The cheers grew louder yet as Loki was given the signal to rise, and the sceptre was placed in their hands. Loki could feel the approval of the Chitauri and mixed with the feeling of their residual seiðr (as the magic was one they occasionally practised when they presented female to further show the division between their genders to the Asgardian people) making them feel more at peace than they ever had. "The world will be theirs, the universe yours, and the humans... What can they do but burn?!"

* * *

When the portal opened all Loki could truly feel was a deeply rooted fear trying to claw up his throat. The blue flames were painful, even against his dragon leather armour, and it left him feeling slightly unsettled, but he forced a smile regardless. Watching the armed humans approach he tried not to move before he could truly understand their intent. It could be that he wouldn't need to fight just then. Negotiation was always his preferred method, not that he got to use it often. His smile fell into a face more contorted with apprehension as he realised they weren't slowing their pursuit nor lowering their weapons. His grip on the sceptre tightened.

"Sir, please put down the spear!" A man yelled. his defensive stance coupled with the distance informed Loki that that man was the one in charge. He looked to his sceptre. Why would they not want him armed when they clearly are? What would they do to him if he were to put it down? He couldn't risk getting himself killed, even if he knew they would war later, he didn't want the people of Midgard to have to fear him in order to lead them. He sent a blast across the room, not really aiming for the leader intentionally, just wanting those with what were clearly weapons to stop pointing them at him. That was when the fight broke out.

He jumped, and shards of metal began to ricochet off of his chestplate. He was thankful for the sturdiness of Asgardian armour, even if it frustrated him to hold a connection to the place that deceived him into believing he had a home.

He jumped and embedded the sceptre's blade into the chest of the man shooting at him. When the two opposite the walkway to him began to do the same he threw his familiar blades, which nestled into the necks of the attackers. He sent a blast of blue light (which he had no understanding of) towards a woman with the sceptre before slashing it up to slice at the arm of one who went to punch him. As more and more people began to fire he sent a large blast towards the group, atomising a man, then kicked the person at his feet into the wall to his left.

He breathed heavily into the silence. No one moved. The silence was occasionally broken by the static zap of broken electronics spraying sparks into their surroundings. One man recovered quickly, and before he could think he was grabbing the man's arm. The blonde flinched, but Loki couldn't find it in him to feel bad. They were going to kill him, and he needed an upper hand.

"You have heart." He spoke lowly, hoping it would calm the man so obviously filled with panic. He tapped the sceptre to the chest of the one held before him, watching as the blue glow that was always associated with Chitauri made its way up the man's neck and into his eyes, which turned entirely black as Loki witnessed the man's, Clint 'Hawkeye' Barton, entire life play out before his eyes in a matter of a few seconds. Once Clint's eyes had turned an unnatural blue, Loki removed the sceptre from his chest.

He did the same to another before he heard Clint's voice echo in his head the same way the occasional prayer would.

_'He's taking the Tesseract.'_

"Please don't," Loki spoke clearly as he turned to see Director Fury attempting to make a quick escape with the Tesseract in a case. "I still need that."

The man spouted some ridiculousness about not needing things to become more of a mess, and Loki finally felt that fear entirely dissipate into rage. He echoed words he didn't really believe into the ears of the man who would take his words as violent truth, ad lied further when he introduced himself as 'of Asgard'. The only truth he spoke was the fact that he was burdened with such glorious purpose.

"Loki? Brother of Thor?" The scientist of Clint's memories asked. To be entirely frank, it did little to stray him from anger.

"We have no quarrel with your people." The Director spoke, as though you could ever truly be okay with a race that you could comfortably call 'your people'.

"An ant has no quarrel with a boot." His tone was calm, but his words were acidic.

"Do you intend to step on us?" He would have laughed if in the right company, the response sounding so childish to him despite the fact that were they the same specie Loki would have been far lesser in age.

"I bring glad tidings of a world made free from freedom. Life's great lie is freedom, and once you accept that in your heart," He took that moment as a convenient one to also take control of the scientist. "You will know peace."

"You know, you say peace but I kind of think you mean the other thing..."

"Sir," Clint spoke as he made his way towards the God. "He's stalling, this place is about to blow and drop a hundred feet of rock on us." All members of the room began to speak, but all Loki could focus on was Clint's odd speech. He had seen that the man was deaf, and had a contraption known as 'hearing aids', which had broken when Loki had sent the initial blast in his direction. He felt the man's longing at that moment to get to higher ground where he would be safe, and the deep fear and upset over his lack of full understanding of the room. Lip reading was far from easy for the man when there was so much he should have to be listening to. Loki stretched out some of the magic to restore whatever was broken in the device that gave the man hearing, and he felt the gratitude surge in his link as a God to those who followed him. 

If he were to be perfectly honest, the time it took for them to leave the place (however that was managed) and set up their new place to work was more than a mystery to Loki. He could remember flashes of blue and be on the back of what he now knew was called a Jeep. What he did know was that after days of familiar floating in his own mind while the world moved around him, he came to in an underground bunker teeming with life, and Clint Barton by his side.

"Back with me, Sir?" The use of Sir had made Loki uncomfortable, but she didn't have the energy to correct Barton or to change herself into her female form, so she dismissed the discomfort.

"What do you mean, Clint?" The man looked taken aback, maybe not truly understanding how Loki didn't know what was happening.

"Here on Earth, we have doctors - healers - for our minds. They teach us about why we react the way we do to stuff, and how that can be treated. You, quite clearly, struggle with dissociation, as I do. It means you retreat into your own mind without realising, like a floating feeling, and your body reacts on autopilot. I've been with you the whole time to make sure you weren't snapped out of it before you wanted to be." Loki felt flooded with all sorts of emotion at that moment. How was it that she felt more understood and cared for at that moment than she ever had on Asgard?

"My gratitude, Clint." The man nodded with a small upturn of his lip before leaving to perform some sort of task he had clearly planned. Loki took some time to assess her surroundings before pulling herself back into her memories with her seiðr.

"The Chitauri grow restless." The Chitauri guard had said while Loki's past-self paced, comfortably in their androgynous body, while she sat off to the side to witness the interaction again.

"Let them gird themselves. I will lead them in the glorious battle." The guard scoffed.

"Battle? Against the meagre might of Earth?" Loki remembered she had felt kind of offended and allowed herself to chuckle at the dramatic look on her past face.

"I had said glorious, not lengthy. If your force is as... Formidable as you claim." The guard had turned just as Loki had and both looked rather disgruntled, much to Loki's amusement. 

"You dare question us?! He who put the sceptre in your hand? Who gave you ancient knowledge and new purpose when you were _cast out,_ defeated?!"

"I was a ruler! The rightful ruler of Asgard, betrayed!" Loki of present felt the discontentment fester once more in the form of burning behind her eyes, the same way she had felt it then.

"Your ambition is little and born of childish need. We look beyond Earth to greater worlds that the Tesseract will unveil." Loki then witnessed herself lash out in a quiet tone that she remembered using all too well. 

"You don't have the Tesseract yet." The guard flew over rocks and ash and dust to Loki of time passed, a threatening hand held in front of them towards the Deity. "I don't threaten. But until I open the doors until your force is mine to command, you are but words." The slow lowering of the guard's hand, both in Loki of the memory and the moment, brought feelings of victory.

"You will have your war, Asgardian." The guard had begun, staring their slow walk in a circuit around Loki. "If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain." The guard stopped behind Loki of then and slowly reached their hand out as they spoke, and as the word pain was uttered, they pressed their hand against the memory Loki's face. Loki presently remembered the searing, white-hot, everything that that touch had brought, and so snapped herself into the present once more. Her resolve tightened. She had a plan.

* * *

He could hear the gentle classical music faintly as he entered the building. He didn't recognise the song, but like any good member of Asgardian elite, he could muddle his way through a song's melody and estimate when it would come to a crescendo. If nothing else, Loki wanted drama. He altered the sceptre into a walking cane and revelled in the fact that it, like his shoes, clicked on the marble with each fitting beat. He let himself look out over the rail at all the people below and delighted in the elegant stairs. He trotted his way down them and towards the congregation. Just as the first sharp note of the violin stuck the room, as he had estimated it would, he swung his 'cane' into the fact of some entitled aristocrat. A sharp gasp filled the elegant room and grew into loud fearful tittering as Loki dragged the man Clint had described by the back of his neck to the centre of the room. He flipped the man onto the stone slab in the centre of the room, allowing himself a moment to take in the frankly beautiful sculpture before using his immense flair to get a perfect copy of the man's eye sent to Clint (simultaneously pulling it out). The music had finally stopped, everyone running for their lives and screaming.

Showtime.

Not before long, he was in his traditional Asgardian armour and cape. The black green and gold always bought him solace, even if he favoured red in his offerings. He used his natural power to create decoys of himself, boxing in those who tried to run.

"Kneel before me." He spoke in perfect German. "I said... _kneel_!" He had slammed down what was once more his sceptre during his pause and revelled as they began to come to their knees before him. He had always valued an ability to listen. He began to wade his way through the people who, sat on their knees, came up to his waist.

"Is not this simpler? Is not this your natural state? The unspoken truth of Midgardian life - of humanity. You crave subjugation and for the bright allure of freedom to diminish. It kills off your joy to fight in a mad scramble for power and identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel." Finally, he could speak uninterrupted. He would admit to himself that he had been projecting slightly, but how could he be wrong? How could it be possible that they didn't feel that way when their freedom had been sucking their optimism for so long?

But then a man stood.

"Not to men like you." Loki couldn't help but laugh for a multitude of reasons. He was a god, not a simple man, and considering he spent quite a lot of time not even being a man he doubted he could truly qualify.

"There are no men like me."

"There are always men like you." The reply made him regret letting Barton teach him German.

"Look to your elder, people: let him be an example." He shot a blue beam towards the too brave man, revelling in the control he felt he had been given. He was so prepared to see the man atomised.

That was, until the dreaded soldier (who Loki believed, from his red, white and blue get-up, had way too much faith in America) dropped from seemingly nowhere to save the man with a fancy painted bin lid.

"Ya know, th' last time I was in Germany I saw a guy standin' over everybody else. We ended up disagreein'." Loki allowed himself to sneer. He wasn't anything like that spineless creature! He did not needlessly hate, he did not destroy needlessly. Loki held power and control, but Loki knew how to wield it for benefit.

"The soldier: the Man Out of Time." Loki taunted, remembering the articles Clint had showed him. They had a long travel from their base to Germany, and they used it productively.

"I'm not the one who's outta time" The soldier spoke just as Loki heard the approach of a near-silent jet. A gun dropped from the base.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down." He knew then that if their plan were to come to fruition, he'd have to at least pretend to fight. To begin with, it had only been the soldier he had been dealing with, but before long some obnoxiously loud, unintelligible music blared from the speakers of the jet, and Iron Man swooped from the sky to lend a hand. To Loki, it was a blessing. He could fake his loss far sooner. The loss of pride would be more than worth it once Midgard was his.

* * *

It was hard to ignore the incessant mumbling chatter of the two accompanying him in the back of the jet, though he had to admit that Stark's nicknames were creative and the only thing truly distracting him from the pain the cuffs gave his wrists. Thunder and lightning crashed suddenly. Loki couldn't help but squirm a little. That blasted blonde brat was going to ruin Loki's whole plan!

"What's th' matter? Scared of a little lightning?" The Captain had asked. Loki suspected he was attempting to be insulting.

"I'm not overly fond of what follows."

Moments later, Thor, of course, had forced his way into the ship, whacked Iron Man with his favourite hammer, and taken Loki by the neck. He had ignored Loki when he had gone in for a hug and had instead jumped out of the back of the plane. He threw Loki to the rocky floor the second he landed.

"Where is the Tesseract?"

"I missed you too..." Loki muttered with a laugh once he had finished his pained groaning.

"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"

"You should be thanking me! With the Bifrost gone, how much dark energy did the Allfather have to conjure to bring you here to your precious Earth?" Loki rambled as he slowly sat up. The pain in his back was overwhelming. Thor pulled him up the rest of the way, cupping the sides of Loki's neck this time with both hands.

"I thought you dead!" Loki couldn't help but be selfish in his responding question when he could so clearly see the man's blue eyes well with tears.

"Did you mourn?" His tone was softer than he would have liked.

"We all did. Our father-"

"Your father." Loki quickly interrupted. Thor let him go roughly. "He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?"

"I care not of your parentage! We were raised together - fought and played together. Are you to forget all of that?" Loki so fondly remembered, and it made what he could not forget all the more painful. The betrayal burned brightly and festered in his veins, bringing tears to his eyes, a rock o his stomach, and spite to his heart.

"I remember a shadow. Living in the shade of your perfection. I remember you tossing me into an unrelenting abyss. _I_ , who was, and _should be_ a king! That I cannot forget."

"So you come to take the world I love in recompense?" Thor asked. And all Loki could think to reply for a short while was a tear-filled _yes_ before he could finally push his permanently polarised emotions down. That was, until Thor quickly continued. "Recompense for your imagined slights? No, Loki, the Earth is under my protection and I will not allow you to take it from me." Loki laughed deliriously, not really knowing what else to do. Thor knew how he was treated on Asgard when female. Thor knew all of the things he was forced to watch - to endure. Thor knew how deeply he longed for what he loved most to come back, and Thor witness his years of mourning and anguish when he lost his children. For Thorto call the slights _imagined_ Loki could almost believe that he had forgotten all of the good times he had had with the man he had believed his brother. He allowed his time to blur by in rage caused mist until he heard Thor's words fill with tears once more.

"-and you come _home._ " And Loki allowed himself a final truth.

"I don't have it." The rest of the fight went quickly, and soon he was once more on a jet.

* * *

When Loki was being escorted to what he assumed would be a cell it was by approximately twelve soldiers. He had kept a small smile on his face, but when he was brought past a lab it stretched wider. Bruce Banner - the Hulk, and the key to his plan's success - was only a wall away from where he was walking. He smiled at the others in the room and was more than surprised to see a child working on something in there that, honestly, looked complicated. Did they allow youngers to fight on Earth? Was the child given the same level of respect as the other soldiers? Could Loki finally stop feeling permanently a little tired from having to hold up a visual visage of being older? It gave him hope.

Lost in his thoughts Loki was soon locked in a large glass cage, clearly meant for Hulk by its large size and lack of furnishing. Director Fury paced by his door momentarily before walking to what was very obviously a control panel. 

"If it is unclear, you try to escape, you so much as scratch that glass," At this point Fury started pressing a few buttons. Loki made sure to memorise them, he knew he could probably use them later. Given the fact that the whole floor dropped out from beneath his cage, and from the glass, he could see the world so far down below, he was more than scared. He was, however, also fully prepared to use the knowledge to his advantage. "You're diving thirty thousand feet in a steel trap. You see how this works?" Fury closed up the floor before making a delightful callback to their initial meeting.

"Ant." He said, gesturing to Loki. "Boot." He finished as he made the same gesture to the controls. Loki didn't bother stifling his laugh. 

"It's an impressive cage." Loki laughed there and tried to make it sound convincing. "Not built, I think, for me." Loki allowed himself to wonder the cage a bit, taking a look at the rest of the room, and where all the cameras and doors were. He was delighted to see there was three of each.

"Built for something a lot _stronger_ than you." Fury replied. His fear tactics were commendable, but Loki knew the truth. They weren't all that effective.

"Oh, I have heard." He turned to look straight into the nearest camera. "A mindless beast; makes play he's still a man. How _desperate_ are you that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?" Loki couldn't control his tone there. He was starting to get annoyed being spoken to once more as though he was lesser.

"Well, let me know if 'one of real power' wants a magazine or something." Loki watched the man walk away then before hearing smaller footsteps creep around the door. He reached out his magic to play a looped couple of seconds on the cameras, allowing the child the moments to do what they wanted without being yelled at for it later. 

"I know of your presence, child," Loki said once he was sure no one could watch their conversation as he was so sure that they had been earlier, and he spun around to face the kid. "Have you been permitted entrance here?" The child shook their head. "And are you aware of the dangers I present?" The kid laughed and Loki froze.

"You're not dangerous, you're a kid in a box." Loki could think two things at that moment: ' _what_ ' and ' _I may have to kill a kid_ '.

"... Pardon? I'm not an infant, boy, I'm a God." Loki watched the boy smile and bring his wrist up to show a watch with a keypad.

"What is the average Asgardian lifespan?" Loki spluttered about the relevance before the child prompted him once more.

"5071 at approximate." Loki watched the child press some buttons before looking back towards the god.

"And your age?" The god sighed and ruffled his hair in a nervous habit he had never been able to break.

"1048..." Loki mumbled and the child smiled wider. Loki was definitely going to have to kill a kid.

"Now, if you divide the average human lifespan (79) by the Asgardian one (5071), then times it by your age (1048), you'll find that you, according to humans, are like 16 years old. Making you, Loki, a child, and one only like 6 years older than me." Loki sighed and thought and considered his options for a minute. She also took a minute to consider herself before deciding she was once more a goddess, not a god. The child held no deceit, Loki's powers could tell her that, and he seemed trustworthy. Loki supposed she could show her true age considering the boy had already figured it out, and she could also use the moment to get out of the uncomfortable male body.

"Very well. I have the viewing devices looped. I suppose, as you have figured it out, I can show myself to you." The child fell silent momentarily leaving Loki to shift. Was something wrong? Did she fall into some kind of trap?

"No way!" He exclaims. "You're actually genderfluid? Like in the myths?" 

"What is... gender fluid? It sounds like rather odd sustenance." Loki had meant it a genuine question, never having heard the term before. She felt even more puzzled when the boy laughed himself to tears.

"No no no, it's where your gender" Loki had never heard of the term 'gender' before. Asgard was more than happy to just refer to people as what they said they were, a label for it was unnecessary. Luckily for Loki, the boy explains. "- whether you're a boy, a girl, or something else - changes." 

"And you midgardians needed a label for that? Why cannot it be said I simply am a man or am a woman or anything otherwise?" It had seemed a very basic question, but the boy sighed sadly, and it had Loki considering herself and her choices for while she was here.

"Because some people don't think you can change it. They think you have to be the one you were told you were at birth. Those people are called transphobic." Loki was attempting to consider that before she heard a call of 'Peter' from the hallway from a voice that was so clearly Stark in its haughtiness. The boy turned t look at the door, telling her it was his name.

"Ah, so that is your name: Peter? Why does Starkson call you?" Peter sighed.

"Unfortunately, I'm a stark son too," He said before slapping his hand over his mouth. He clearly hadn't meant to say that. "Uh... I mean... My surname is Parker, and you heard nothing that could suggest otherwise." Loki laughed. Maybe she didn't have to kill the child, she decided she rather liked this one.

"I will not share that fact, child. Now go, Parkerson, before you are found with me." Loki changed his form back into the same one he had been using previously, shifting from foot to foot and ruffling her hair. The body felt too tall, too broad. She felt as though she was lost in it. It was rather uncomfortable, but it would be better than if any of the workers here were one of these 'transphobics' and killed her for it or something otherwise.

"One more question!" Peter said urgently when he very clearly should have been leaving given the voice was getting dangerously nearer. "Do you hear prayers?" Loki gave a small, soft smile, and she responded quieter, slightly saddened.

"Yes. Each one directed to me. Though I don't receive many any longer..." Her sadness was not one she could easily hide. She used to receive prayers often, people going to her for support or to leave her offerings to show their appreciation. It was one of few things that brought her solace until they slowly tapered off. She received hardly twenty or thirty a day now, which would take barely a few minutes from her day. Loki was knocked out of her melancholy thoughts by Stark's calls, which were far louder, no longer an echo.

"Thank you, Goddess Loki. Bye!" The child didn't wait for a response, he simply slipped out the door. Loki could faintly hear their interaction.

"What are you doing back here, Peter?" The man sighs.

"I got lost on my way back from the bathroom." Given they walked away together there in silence, Loki assumed Stark believed Peter's lie. So the child could be one of her own followers: he held the properties.

He was clearly mischievous, having snuck away to see Loki. He clearly wouldn't tolerate people trying to hide things or lie (the child literally called out a goddess). He was strong at heart and caring, that was obvious. He was open-minded, and clearly saw grey zones where others may see black and white. Loki could very well be the child's patron deity. The patron deity usually didn't know that someone was one of theirs until that person also did, at which point they could either decide not to have deity connections, or to work with their patron. Loki had a feeling she would be hearing from the young Peter, and she could safely say she wouldn't mind.

She gave herself time to consider Peter and quite a lot of it. She could feel disturbances around her sceptre, one of them that may have been Peter, though she wasn't so sure. She'd let them have their fun - they wouldn't find anything. How could they? They were only humans.

* * *

Loki, as usual, had timed everything perfectly. They were just having their spat with Romanoff as they knew Clint would be starting his break-in. Unluckily Romanoff was too good at her job, and in Loki's blinded anger they spilt that Banner was their plan. Regardless, Loki knew they could still succeed. They had lied though. They would kill her if necessary, they would never let Clint do it. Loki would like to believe that they and the man had bonded. They knew that Clint was under the control of the sceptre, of the Tesseract, but they had shown themself entirely to Clint - their age, their gender, their life. Clint had helped them puzzle their way through why they lost so much of their own time. Clint had taught him German, and they had shared life experiences. Loki knew it was careless and stupid to have done so, but they finally felt they could trust someone. They finally had a friendship. They weren't then going to hurt that first person to ever truly extend them help - they weren't so stupid. They just hoped Barton could see so.

Romanoff did give Loki a good chance to distract everyone. Before long, all of their main players were in the same room - the room with the sceptre. They were already in the midst of starting an argument, so it didn't drain Loki too much to push the sceptre to heighten the anger and frustration of all in the room. It would give them all a distraction, and it would give Loki the necessary time to get Clint and the others on the ship. It was all seeming very convenient.

Until they heard Peter's voice in the back of their head.

' _Loki, I come to you now in a time of need for guidance and support. I feel a rage. One I thought I was long over, and a hurt I know will never heal. I ask of you, please can you help clear my mind. The words said to me were wrong, and the actions of the room are loud. I come to you asking for focus._ '

It was a format they had heard before. A woman who had prayed to them daily and sat down in astral projection often to have lengthy conversations of guidance with the God. She wore a pentagram necklace and always had an aura of yellow. She, now Loki thought about it, reminded them a lot of Peter. Loki reached out their power to the sceptre and scanned the room, finding Peter hunched over himself crying while sitting on the floor. His aura was a swirling red, blue and yellow. Loki reached out with the sceptre's magic to remove all anger from Peter's crumpling form. They received sobbing 'thank you's in the back of their mind that signalled that they had done a good job of removing the anger as requested to clear the boy's head. They thought of potentially removing the sadness too, but then they remembered the need to feel the sadness when something had been said to ensure the person who said it was not easily forgiven. Whoever it was that filled Peter with such doubt and sorrow had earnt the boy's ire - Loki wasn't going to remove that from Peter over a selfish need to see the boy well.

That was when the first explosion hit. It shook the ship and rattled Loki's cage. Loki could hear shots in the distance. They could hear Hulk's roars on the outside of the ship: perfect. Clint rushed into the room with a few others in SHIELD gear and let Loki out of the cage, gave rushed words of update, handed Loki the sceptre, and a nod to each other before Clint was off again, leaving Loki to make a decoy of themself to wait and trick Thor. Clint had told him that it would most likely be Thor to come to the cage first - Loki had to be prepared. Clint clearly worked fast, because soon enough another engine was out and the ship was dropping. Most everything was going perfectly to plan. Lucky for Loki, Thor was nothing if not predictable.

" _No_!" The blonde roared. Loki's decoy was stood at the entrance of an opening cage, so Thor charged. He moved to tackle what he believed would be Loki but instead, he phased right through. Loki quickly gestured at the man behind them to shut the door, trapping his 'brother'. 

"Will you ever learn not to fall for that?" They spoke once Thor had looked at them. Loki startled slightly as Thor slammed Mjolnir against the side of the glass, creating a large crack. He lost his fear, however, when the whole thing teetered as if to fall.

"Some humans think us immortal... Shall we test that?" They said. They were just about to press the buttons to drop the cage from the sky when he heard a loud groan, followed by the familiar sound of a body hitting the floor.

"Move away please." The agent had a gun. Loki, out of a healthy amount of self-preservation, did just that and took a step back. The agent started to walk forward, so Loki did too. They were hoping they could find a middle ground. The last thing they wanted was to be blasted by something they didn't know the effect of. "You like this? We started working on it after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don't know what it does." The man powered it up. It glowed a threatening orange. Loki was hoping that Thor may say something in his defence, but the god stood silently. "Wanna find out?" Loki desperately did not, in fact, want to find out. They quickly made a decoy to stand in their exact position before teleporting behind the agent, where they then stabbed the blades of the sceptre straight through the man's back. Thor cried an anguished no, and Loki pretended that the blood didn't make them want to gag while the man shifted so he could slide down the wall. They walked slowly to the controls.

They made sure not to look in Thor's direction. In that exact moment, they desperately needed someone to give them an out. They didn't fully grasp until they were literally considering potentially murdering their brother how far they were going to have to take the whole situation. They didn't like it.

Instead of voicing this though, an echo of a threat of more than suffering filled their brain. They dropped Thor from the sky.

They couldn't back out anymore. They should have at the start, they could see that, but there was no choice. They didn't want to be forcibly tortured again; they wouldn't cope with more suffering. Loki would have loved nothing more than to have been able to live a normal life on Earth like Thor had been now that they had realised how many people didn't want the ruling it, but they had no choice. They flicked off the panel.

"You're not going to win." The dying man said as Loki turned to walk away.

"Am I not?" They stopped and turned to face the man. He nodded.

"It's in your nature." Loki would be lying if they said that didn't hurt. As usual, they let their emotions take them.

"Your pathetic heroes are scattered and your fortress is falling from the sky. Pray, tell me, how could I lose?"

"You lack conviction." Loki's anger bubbled in their veins so much that they didn't even notice the agent moving the weapon that previously had been resting on his lap to face the trickster.

"I just tossed my brother to his death for this, I really don't think that I'm-" The bast hit Loki square in the chest. It sent them flying violently back and through a wall. They groaned as they hit the floor, the impact forcing the air from their lungs. Faintly, they heard the agent speaking.

"So that's what it does."

* * *

Loki had just managed to scramble their way to a jet that they could escape on when a voice echoed in the back of their head. An angry voice of a stern woman, who Loki would be scared to ever come across by the tone in her voice because by Odin's beard she sounded murderous.

' _So help me, Loki, if I find my Peter dead because you and your merry band of mind-controlled misfits wanted to take over the Earth I will beat the ever-living fuck out of you_!'

And it finally clicked in their mind: Peter was on the ship that just got mostly blown up. Even if it was now stabilised, there was a very likely chance that Peter had been blown up inside of it, or sent flying off the edge of one of the many holes now riddled in it. 

Somewhere in their mind though, Loki knew that wasn't the case. They weren't certain if he was alive, but he was certain that Peter was on the ship. If they remembered correctly, there was quite a blast in the lab; Peter contacting Loki when he was in the lab couldn't have been more convenient. He was probably somewhere near there. The boy had brains, certainly, but he was a skinny little runt and they doubted he could have made it far after a blast.

"Hold the ship." They ordered before teleporting themself to the lab. Two teleportations in such a short time-frame exhausted the god, and Loki wasn't certain if they'd be able to teleport both themself and Peter once they found the boy, but it was resolute in their mind that they would at very least make an attempt. They could rest at Stark Tower while the portal was being opened.

They assessed the large hole in the centre of the floor. If they remembered correctly, the whole opened not far from where Peter had been sat. If he had moved over once Loki had aided him, he would almost certainly be on the floor below. Loki jumped into the hole, landing steadily on a foot, hand and knee (like a real hero). Directly in front of them was a very blue looking Peter. The large pole next to his body and the bruising on his arms and neck would suggest it had previously been trapping him. Loki rushed to feel for a pulse...

Nothing.

Panic and sadness filled them and they worked quickly to push magic into the boy's frail heart and mind to jump-start the boy's body into living again and find the reason he had passed in the first place. Every aspect of the memory flooded Loki's mind at once and they searched frantically for the inhaler they now knew resided in Peter's pocket as Peter started weakly fighting for breath again. They forced the plastic into the boy's mouth.

"Peter, deep breath!" The diety panicked, but they felt better as the boy did as instructed, taking in a lungful of medication. "Good, and another." The moment Peter had taken the second and was breathing at least semi-regularly, Loki pulled Peter to their chest.

"This is going to feel strange, but you'll be okay. I'm taking you home." And they teleported them to the jet to make their getaway.

* * *

Colours seemed far too bright when Clint opened his eyes. It made it feel like his skull was being set on fire. Everything was silent, and it upset him unnaturally. He could remember all that had happened in his time with Loki; it all dribbled back slowly until it was all too present.

He could remember that to begin with it felt hostile. It felt like someone has torn him out of his own mind and forcibly stuffed someone else in, but over time it had changed. It felt like a gentle smoke clearing his mind of anything unpleasant. He could remember how Loki had filled his mind with incomparable knowledge and understanding of anything he could need to know.

Most confusingly, he remembered Loki.

Loki was nothing how he would have expected. They seemed almost normal to Clint, and so so young. Loki had confessed to Clint that they were not yet an adult and that they were doing this because the Chitauri had saved them. They had to pay their debt back somehow. From what Clint could understand, it was very threatening. Now his mind was clear Clint could fully understand every aspect of how Loki was. He found that he didn't dislike them.

Snapping himself from his thoughts he realised he was strapped down. He could feel his aids, but the fact he couldn't hear anything suggested they were broken again. There was no Loki to fix them this time either.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Fortunately, it was only Natasha. She, much to Clint's relief, spoke clearly. It made it a lot easier for him to lip-read.

"You're going to be alright, Clint." For a long moment, he couldn't really think of why he may have been anything otherwise. He just nodded. She unclasped his wrists and he thankfully took the water she offered. The running and fighting had made him tired and parched. He could do with a drink. She waited for him to be looking at her again before speaking.

"You've gotta level out. It's gonna take time." He was quick to disagree.

"No, you don't understand." From her flinch, he knew he was speaking far too loud, and attempted to be a little quieter, though he was almost certain it didn't quite sound right. "I'm fine. It didn't hurt. Loki... Loki just needs help. How did you get it out." She looked as though she would have preferred he continued, but he supposed she didn't feel she could deny a man an answer to his question when he was clearly so tired.

"Cognitive recalibration: I whacked you real hard in the head." He didn't really know if he should have thanked her, but he did so regardless. It was then he realised something else. He may not have been in pain, and he may have understood Loki's position, but Clint had still killed quite a lot of people. He needed to know... Just how many?

"Natasha... How many-" She tapped him and shook her head, effectively cutting him off. She changed briefly to sign, just t say 'Don't do that to yourself, Clint'. He appreciated it for a multitude of reasons.

"Loki... They get away?" She nodded.

"Don't suppose you know where?" Clint did know: Loki had told him the whole plan. What Clint also knew, was that he couldn't risk getting the diety killed when he was so clearly being trusted, so he found a way to technically lie.

"I didn't have to know, I didn't ask."

* * *

Once she reached Stark Tower, Loki was less than happy to know Clint hadn't made it back with them. That meant he was more than likely back in SHIELD's control. Peter had fallen asleep leaning against her on the jet, and she couldn't blame him. He had literally been dead, she figured it made sense he had to sleep it off. The moment they reached Stark's tower she was sending Selvig to the roof and carrying Peter inside. She couldn't tell which room would be his, and she knew she didn't have the time to look, so instead, she simply laid him on a bed in the closest room that had one. She could try to pretend that she hadn't been fondly carrying the boy the whole time, but no one was around to see her so she wasn't going to bother. When she attempted to let go Peter had whined in a way that, to Loki, had sounded far too upset, so she attempted to replace her own body with a pillow. Thankfully it worked enough that his wordless complaints stopped. She stroked his hair (though she would adamantly deny it if asked) before leaving the room to wait on the balcony for Stark.

It was a matter of moments before his ridiculous suit could be spotted just off in the distance; Loki silently thanked her foresight not to take the time to find Peter a room. She knew that placing Peter in the centre of all the action was going to be something she would likely regret later, but she had no other option. She couldn't have left him on the ship with him too far for her magic to be able to check on him, and she certainly didn't want him waking up surrounded by those under her control. It was the best of a bad set of selections, and yet when Stark immediately moved to blow up the device she was sure Selvig had gotten running, she felt it wasn't good enough. The man didn't have a singular clue what could have done! It could have blown up the entire building had she not had Selvig build it a barrier. There was only so much her magic could do, and she was certain that she wouldn't be able to bring Peter back from a being-blown-to-pieces level of damage.

Stark floated himself down to the same level she was on. The last thing she had expected was the man taking off his armour, but surely enough that was what he did. Robots pulled the pieces apart from around him in a complicated and frankly over the top display as he walked himself inside. She tried to hide her slight confusion as she also walked herself into the building, approaching from the opposite side.

"Please tell me you're going to attempt to appeal to my humanity." She snarked. She knew that if Thor or the soldier asked her (or Peter in the correct context, though it would be unnecessarily unlikely) in the right way she could get away with explaining herself and being able to have the whole laughable plot ended before it got too severe, however, she'd never let the Man of Iron have the satisfaction, both for her own sanity and for Peter's. She knew there wasn't going to be enough of a correct opportunity to get her away from the wrath of The Other or even the one higher than that should she fail, but it would be an ideal situation should she be able to stop. Loki sincerely did not want to have to force others through torture in order to follow her any less than she wanted to be tortured herself.

"Um, I'm actually planning on threatening you." The last thing she would want was an all-out fight that ended up waking the boy not even three rooms across, and yet she found herself taunting the man anyway.

"You should have left your suit on for that." He prattled on about things that to Loki were meaningless, being so naive as to refer to her sceptre as a simple glow-stick. One that, if went to plan, would be a glow-stick that overtook the mind of the 'hero' and won Loki a ticket directly out of having to make the situation worse. He offered her a drink, which she promptly denied. She had had a single encounter with Asgardian mead and swiftly decided there would never be a repeat performance.

The scientist's apparent need to take nothing seriously soon began to grate on the woman, so as he poured a drink she moved to the window. She scanned her eyes across the skyline and allowed herself to picture if it would look better or worse once the Chitauri landed: she decided on much, much worse.

"They are coming; nothing will change that," she turned quickly, hoping that her lingering panic wouldn't show. "What have I to fear?"

"The Avengers." He had said it so simply, but the two words had thrown Loki's entire world off-course. What were 'The Avengers', and why was it nothing Clint had warned her of if it were to be such a threat? She wasn't so scared when he continued - the man would really have been a lot better in most fields if he learnt exactly when it was he should stop talking. "That's what we call ourselves. Like a team of 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes', that kind of thing."

"Ah, yes," She granted with a slight laugh. "I've met them." The man prattled on about who exactly Loki should be struggling against, though she couldn't help but scoff and turn momentarily when Thor was referred to as her brother. She pretended she didn't hear the movement of metal or notice that Stark had acquired some new wristbands when she turned back to him. 

"When they come, and they will, they'll come for you."

"I have an army." Stark began to walk towards her, what she assumed was mead in a glass in his hand.

"We have a Hulk."

"Oh, I thought that that beast had wandered off?" She joked with a smirk, but she clearly struck some kind of a nerve, because the man's next words came quickly and with far more of a frosty bite.

"You're missing the point, Raindeer Games, there is no throne! There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes, and maybe it will be too much for us, but then it's all on you. If we can't protect the Earth you better be damned sure we'll avenge it." It would have been a motivating speech, and she was sure had it come from the Captain, she could have conceded there. She could have given in and admitted that she had no idea yet how to run a world that wasn't battle driven. She could have finally said that she was being forced to continue now she had realised it wasn't what she wanted because she was to be tortured beyond pain otherwise. She, instead, went for her final hopeless plan and tapped the sceptre to the man's chest, more than surprised when it didn't work. She tried again only to receive the same result and the classic snark of the other.

She grabbed him by the neck and delighted in throwing him across the room.

"You will all fall before me." She mutters before once more picking the man up by his neck and throwing him, this time though she threw him straight through the window to plummet to the floor below. A metal suit blasted through the room and to the floor. By the time she had struggled back to her feet (finding it harder since her body was still too tall and too wide and too _not hers_ ) Stark was at the hole in his window in the suit that had just been deployed to him.

"And there was one other person you pissed off: his name was Phil." She knew she should likely know what Stark was talking about, but she honestly had no idea. This, of course, was to be kept to herself. She was soon blasted backwards across the room, and in the exact same moment she hit the floor the entire tower shook.

The portal was being opened.

Stark was very obviously about to fly away to deal with it when Loki heard another voice that filled her with dread.

"Goddess Loki?" He sounded painfully tired, and he stumbled with each step. His voice was weak and his breathing still audibly too raspy and rattling. She was on her feet before Stark could even react.

"Peter, go lay back down." Her voice was slightly too cold compared to the previous tones she had been using with the boy, so his eyes raked the room. He took in the broken glass and his father in the suit and understood near immediately something was wrong.

"Mister Loki," He remedied quickly, hoping Stark wouldn't notice. "What's going on?" He coughed and nearly fell with how much the short sentence taxed him with the energy being used to hold himself up.

"Seriously Peter," Loki said, giving up holding such a strong pretence for the silenced Stark as Chitauri flew down from a hole in the sky. "Go and lay down before you die again, idiot child. Where is your inhaler?" Peter sluggishly searched his pockets and panicked when he couldn't find it. It was then Loki remembered it was still in her cloak. She held the boy's head as she had before, instructing him on when to breathe. It was with Loki's quiet and firm mumblings that Stark finally seemed to find his voice.

"What the actual fuck?" Peter, mouth then freed of the plastic drew a deep chuckle from Loki when he replied a simple 'eloquent' before slumping against the goddess once more.

"No seriously what the fuck?!" Stark repeated before Loki decided to reboot him.

"Help me here, now, or see if your presence can aid the tear in the sky, Stark, I'm too busy to deal with your pathetic malfunctioning." She began to lead Peter to the sofa, wiping away shards of broken glass before deciding to just lay out her cloak and materialise herself another so the boy could lay safely. His breathing was steadying again, but Loki held no hope that it would stay that way long with Peter's dry, rattling coughs. Each was followed by a hearty wheeze that sounded far too close to the one he produced when Loki had first woken him. Stark seemed to decide that flying himself away to fight Chitauri was what he needed to do at that moment, and so Loki continued to pretend she knew what she was going as she fed her magic into the boy's body. He began to fall back asleep, only to be jolted awake with each cough. Loki knew that at that rate, he'd likely have no clear memory of ever waking up, only hazy thoughts of pain and some of his surroundings.

She tried to pretend that was comforting.

* * *

She had a total of twenty minutes of steadily feeding Peter low levels of her magic before he finally slept, and so she allowed herself to take herself onto the balcony. Looking at the child so pale whilst remembering how he had looked during their first interaction was difficult. She couldn't decide if he reminded her of a mixture between her daughter Hel and her son Narfi, or if he reminded her of a very sick Thor. Either way, seeing the boy so broken and ill and being able to draw such close connections to those who were and those she thought to be family burned her from the inside out. She safely assumed it was what had her so drawn to him in the first place.

It meant, of course, that by the time Thor landed on the balcony beside her she was magically, physically and emotionally tired. She had strained her magic so far in managing multiple teleportations and making so many models of herself, and holding up her look as it was, was tiring. Once she had spent so long feeding her magic in another direction she knew it would be unlikely she could even hold her appearance for longer than a few hours if she no longer used any of her own power. The fighting, running, and the physical toll of teleportation had wearied her to a point that she felt simply standing too much, and she knew she was a matter of a few short sentences away from giving in and falling to the floor to weep and allow someone to help her pick up the pieces of the truly broken mess she had forced herself into.

"Loki! Turn off the Tesseract or I'll destroy it, then take me to young Starkson." Thor yelled over the sounds of explosions and Chitauri engines.

"Parkerson... And, you can't." She forced out weakly. "There's no stopping it." Her mind was filled with the times the same words had been said to her regarding the deaths, entrapments or enslavements of her children, and it further broke her resolve. Even Thor's harsh tone wasn't enough to motivate her into continuing out of spite. When the jet, which Loki could see Clint was piloting (she tried to pretend that didn't foolishly hurt her), began to fire at her she threw down the sceptre and allowed the bullets to ricochet off of her armour. She fell hopelessly to her knees as each bullet against the metal forced more breath from her. She was more than surprised when Mjolnir flew into the wing of the jet before returning to Thor's hand.

"Look at this, Loki. Look around and see. Do you think this madness will end in your rule?" Thor's tone had become softer and seeing the giant Chitauri creature had entirely broken the rest of Loki's resolve. Thor kneeled next to her and a single tear left her eye.

"It is too late. It's too late to stop this." Thor shook his head and held Loki close to his chest by her shoulders.

"No. We can, together, brother." And for once Loki corrected him in a different way.

"Sister." And she hugged him back.

The pair of them revelled in the now unfamiliar closeness and Loki allowed herself to feel hope.

"The Other, the leader of the Chitauri... If I don't go through with this I have been promised more than pain at his hand." Thor shook his head and ran his fingers through Loki's hair.

"You've known more than pain, sister, I refuse to allow you to experience any more." She laughed, and Thor's smile was, for once, kind. He took the sceptre and wiped the drying tear from his sister's cheek, holding her tight and using Mjolnir to fly them to the rooftop. He handed Loki the sceptre and saw her moving towards the unconscious scientist on the floor.

"I'm going to alter the others. See if you can make progress here for now. I'll be back."

* * *

Thor lept of the roof feeling lighter than he had in a while despite all of the fighting occurring on the ground around him. He dredged up all the power he could (adamantly refusing to call it magic as his sister did, given that he only really summoned bad weather, as he had once said to her) and fried as many Chitauri as he could on his way to where the rest of the team were. He took out the remaining six surrounding them and was immediately addressed by the captain.

"What's the story upstairs?" Thor took a deep breath.

"I spoke with Loki, she is seeing what she can do to stop it. The power surrounding the cube is impenetrable, but I have no doubt she can find a solution. She's always been smart when she's not being stupid. If you come into her area, don't fire. She's trying to help: I trust her." The moment Thor finished his sentence the portal began to close. One of the larger Chitauri fighters and probably a couple of hundred others slipped through before it fully closed, and Thor gave a booming chuckle.

"That's my sister!" He cheered, confusing the group thoroughly.

"Why are you calling Loki a girl, Thor?" He heard Stark through the comms. He responded, rightfully confused.

"That is how she is currently identifying herself? Have none of you been making sure she is comfortable when she is no longer male?" He asked in horror to the confusion of the team.

"No? Wha are you talking about, Thor?" The captain asked as more Chitauri rained down on them.

"Later. Now that portal is shut we can clean up down here and I can go find out what Loki meant when he said Peter died." Thor corrected Stark with a rather loud 'she' before continuing to help fry the Chitauri. The numbers were culled down much faster once there wasn't more coming in, and the team worked around the city meticulously picking off each and every soldier. Thor, all the while, was plotting his method of keeping Loki safe.

* * *

Loki walked cautiously towards the waking man, not sure if he would still be under the sceptre's control. She was right to be careful, as he began to frantically swing at her as the blue drained from his eyes.

"Selvig, stop. I need your assistance in shutting this thing down!" She yelled. She needed his attention, and thankfully it worked.

"...What?..." His question was rightfully bewildered and he had - blessedly - stopped swinging at her.

"The portal, I need to close it. Is there any way how?" Selvig seemed frozen and Loki had to continually prompt him to get any actually helpful information.

"I wasn't in my right mind when I built it, I'd need a look."

"I wasn't in my right mind when I ordered you to, Selvig. See what you can do." It took the scientist a single slow circle of the buzzing device before his face lit up. He pointed to a small point just below the Tesseract.

"There! That's a safety, should cut the power source. You need something strong to get through the barrier though." Loki immediately handed the man her sceptre. He looked disgusted by it, and though offended Loki could entirely understand his revulsion.

"Would that work?" He nodded and Selvig immediately attempted to force the sceptre through the barrier, but it was clear he wasn't quite strong enough.

"Need me to try?" She offered, taking the handle of the sceptre. Selvig nodded and simply pointed to the exact place the head of the sceptre would need to go. He would give directions of Loki's forcing the sceptre through the energy caused the path to stray, but in less than ten seconds - though it felt a millennium for both who just wanted everything to be over - the device stopped feeding the portal, causing it to slowly knit itself closed.

"Thank you, Selvig, for having more sense than I in this situation." Loki allowed herself to laugh openly with the more than relieved scientist before she took him by the waist. "Hold tight, I'll jump us down to the penthouse." She waited for the shellshocked man to do just that before practically carrying him to the sofa. She sat him down on the side of the sofa the sleeping Peter wasn't, checking on him when she noticed he was still asleep.

"Stark offered me a drink. I said no, but I'm extending you his offer." She said once she was at least partially satisfied with Peter's wellbeing. Selvig nodded with a grateful sigh, so Loki made quick work of pouring him a glass of Stark's mead. He drank it in one, placing the glass on the floor. Loki, in need of her own calming down, moved Peter as gently as she could so his head was in her lap and began to gently play with his curls, once again feeding him low levels of her magic. She knew that soon her magic would stop holding up her looks, but she felt bone-deep in that moment only one thing: Peter was more important.

* * *

When The Avengers got back to Stark Tower all three in the penthouse were long asleep. Loki's hand was still buried in Peter's hair, but her looks - fortunately for her - had remained the same. They were shocked out of sleep by Thor's booming call. 

"Sister!" Peter immediately started hacking coughs. The sharp intake of breath causing the boy's breathing to once again fall into unnatural shallowness and rattling. Loki fumbled for a moment, not aware yet of all the eyes on her, searching for Peter's inhaler. She, as she had each time before, held the boy gently as she helped him to use her inhaler, slowly beginning to feed what was left of her magic into the boy. His breathing settled quickly, and she moved him to lay in her lap once more. She yawned deeply, longing for nothing more than return to her sleep. 

"Yes, brother?" She asked allowing her eyes to close still not taking in the rest of the room. "Is it over?" Thor's footsteps were clunky and familiar as he made his way over to her. He ran his fingers through her hair in an unfamiliar but more than welcome comfort.

"It is over - you did well." She shook her head, tiredly attempting to push all the credit to Selvig for the scientist's forethought. "Rest now sister, and we shall plan how to aid you in your escape of The Other." Loki's sigh was deep and thankful, and just as she was about to allow herself to fall back asleep she heard the same irritating voice saying the same irritating words she had heard roughly two hours previous.

"What the fuck?"

"Tony, Peter is right there!" Romanov, much to Loki's amusement, chides. Only then was it she noticed that Thor had called her his sister in front of The Avengers - the exact people she was attempting to hide her genderfluidity from. (Though she could admit that Peter giving her a label for her identity made it feel a lot more concrete and easy to explain in her head.) Loki tried to pretend she wasn't annoyed the whole team was there - she was, after all, in Stark's living room - but she couldn't help but feel slightly wronged by Thor that he'd tell these people that may harm her for it. That was until she noticed a very shifty Clint. Basic sign language had been a quick necessity to learn in the bunker given how often Clint managed to break his hearing aids, and she would notice the signs of it anywhere. He would scan everyone's faces every moment possible, barely pausing to blink lest he miss someone saying something and lose his understanding of anything going on in the room. She waited for Clint's eyes to scan her before she began to sigh, and he immediately relaxed at the shoulders.

' _Your hearing aids broke?_ ' When Clint sighed it was almost painfully familiar, and his small nod more so. Some in the room looked very confused, but they continued on regardless.

' _I've got them in but they're definitely not working. Work your magic?_ ' She gave the familiar push of a little bit of her power that seeped into the device to correct what was wrong. She clapped twice and was met with a nod - their test to ensure it had worked. They smiled at each other, and it made her more than relieved.

"Can someone actually answer my question here?" Peter resigned himself, blearily, to the fact that he clearly wasn't about to get any sleep and instead sat up to lean his head on Loki's shoulder. He yawned, stretched, and then relaxed again before speaking.

"Can I get a water?" Natasha was immediately moving to get him one to both his and Loki's relief, and he chugged the whole thing once it had been placed in his hands. Selvig, used to the constant loud chatter and movements in the bunker, managed to keep on sleeping. Loki knew she likely could too if she wasn't about to be drilled for however many hours until they were satisfied.

"Where is Peter's guardian? I need to talk to her." She wasn't going to do anything until she knew that whoever that woman was wasn't going to murder her to ensure Peter's safety. The boy perked up immediately.

"Yeah! Where's May?" Stark stepped forwards.

"On her way - I'm one of his guardians. Whatever you want to say to her tell me so we can get this over with." Peter's deep glare had her shaking her head immediately.

"I need her." Peter relaxed once more into Loki's side. "She is, after all, the only reason why Peter is currently breathing - for more than one reason."

Needless to say, Loki was having to artfully dodge a lot of questions before she arrived.

The moment she saw Peter as she stepped out of the lift she took off at a run. She scooped the boy into her arms and began checking him over.

"Patatino I'm so glad you're okay! The moment I'm done hugging you I'll murder Stark for ever thinking it was a good idea you come on that ship. Your breathing is rattling, you've used your inhaler, right?" Peter laughed and kissed her cheek and everyone in the room ignored Tony's spluttering.

"Yes, auntie May, I'm alright. Murder him if you want to - I certainly won't stop you. Yes, Mister Loki has made sure I use it." Hearing the male reference towards herself made her deeply uncomfortable, but none-the-less, having it come from Peter she was relieved. She knew he was trying to help her, and she was more than thankful. That was when it clicked with May just who Peter was resting against. 

The connection of her fist on the dragon leather was audible. It hurt the Goddess, so she knew it was likely more than painful for the woman herself.

"Loki you inconsiderate little-"

"-Okay May, I'm gonna stop you there! Mister Loki saved my life, cut him some slack!" Peter cut her off. She was stunned to silence for a moment before glaring. She was about to speak before she was once again cut off - this time by a God.

"Loki is currently a she, Parkerson." Thor was likely trying to be helpful, but both Peter and Loki wanted to punch him in the face.

"A fact, brother, I was hoping to keep secret. Peter was attempting to help." Thor seemed confused, so Loki continued on. "We can have the discussion once we hit what I'm sure will soon be my interrogation."

"Damn right, Loki. You tell me right now what happened with my boy before I get violent." 

"You weren't already?" Loki joked before seeing her raised eyebrow. She didn't know how, but that one movement struck more fear into her than any of The Other's threats. "I heard you... On the ship. It was a threat, but as it was addressed to me it worked in the same way as my prayers. I realised, thanks to Peter for calling to me for guidance just before the blast, that he was probably unconscious somewhere in or near the lab." She took a deep breath.

"I found him on the floor below... He was dead, but relatively recently. I managed to force enough magic into him to get his heart beating, and I searched the top levels of his mind so I could see the damage. I used his inhaler to get his breathing steady and I've been feeding him low levels of my magic whenever I've been awake or close enough, but I teleported us to the ship so I could bring him here to sleep. By the time I need to wait for it to replenish he'll be stable enough to go a few hours without it - which I'm afraid to say won't be long." The room was silent for a long while. May sobbed quietly and squeezed Peter (which she quickly had to release due to his wheeze).

"Sister you must be careful! It is not healthy to drain your magic so low!" She yawned once more.

"Well, I'm about to reach such a point my looks may not hold so I'd like to hurry our conversation if possible." Peter had the decency to look sheepish.

"They know you're a kid Loki you don't have to hold it." She turned, more than dramatically offended.

"You told them? You little traitorous quim." She should have come off as angry, but Peter heard the smile in her voice.

"It was necessary if you didn't want to get catapulted out of the sky or shot at any point." She pretended to consider her options for a moment.

"I suppose you may continue to live - I want not to have made myself so tired for nothing." They shared tired smiles before Loki turned to the blissfully quiet group before her. "Ask away I suppose."

* * *

It took hours of questioning and discussion before the group came up with a plan decent enough to please Fury and not punish Loki too severely. She was to be kept under arrest in what was soon to be the Avengers Tower (there was enough damage to call for a partial re-build, and Stark called for a rebrand while he was at it). The Avengers moving into the Tower would give Loki significant 'policing', and she wasn't to be permitted use of her magic for the entire year unless it was an emergency. She wasn't allowed to leave the building unless accompanied by at least three others. The UN wasn't pleased, but they couldn't push for more. The Tesseract was returned to Asgard, and the sceptre surrendered to Fury until the arrest was over. All things considered, things were shaping up to be an odd, but wonderful next year.


End file.
